Charming the Snake
by x Dark Lady x
Summary: Harry Potter never met Draco Malfoy at Madam Malkin's, but instead, the pompous Percy Weasley. Follow a much darker Harry through all seven of his years in Slytherin, as he forms both allies and friends, and makes the impossible...possible. Re-writing!
1. Year 1: Broken Prophecy

**Charming the Snake  
by **_**FashionStarlet**_

**Summary: **_What if it wasn't Draco Malfoy Harry met at Madam Malkin's, but instead Percy Weasley? How would that change things? Well, one thing's for sure – Harry isn't going to be in the same house where they put him in charge! Dark, Slytherin Harry. Years 1-7._

**Pairings:**_Harry/Ginny, Draco/Hermione, Theodore/Daphne, Blaise/OC._

**Spoilers:** _Random quotes from all 7 books. So, ignore if you don't want to spoil anything._

**Quick Note:**_This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but since it is so long, I might split it into several parts. Also, __**BEWARE: Harry follows Voldemort here, as does Hermione and Ginny**__. However, some people remain neutral like the Weasley Twins, Remus and Sirius (who follows Harry). Also some clichés in here...If you don't like, don't read. Oh, and __**updates might take a while**__, partially because school hols are coming to an end, and chapters tend to be rather long. Anyway, hope you like._

**Disclaimer: **_I don't own Harry Potter. Not even in my dreams._

**EDITED: **_11/07/2011_

* * *

**YEAR ONE:  
**_**Broken Prophecy**_

* * *

"_How come Percy gets new robes, anyway?" said one of the twins.  
"Because he's a __**prefect**__," said their mother fondly._

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**H**_arry Potter was having the best day of his life. He had just found out that he was a wizard – yes, a real, wand-waving, frog-turning, robe-wearing _wizard_! It was so incredibly amazing that he felt like pinching himself, but he was scared that if he did, he would wake up, back in his dusty old cupboard (or worse, the hut-on-a-rock) with Aunt Petunia yelling at him to cook the eggs.

The black haired boy sighed, as he glanced up at the huge sign that read, "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions." Hagrid had already left to go get a pick-me-up (whatever that was) at the Leaky Cauldron, leaving Harry to get his school robes. It was daunting, entering his first wizard shop ever, and Harry desperately wished that Hagrid could be with him. Still, mustering the very little courage he had, he stepped through the doors.

There was a soft tinkling sound, and a squat woman dressed in mauve smiled up at him. Harry looked down at her, and couldn't help but notice how very _small_ she was. Harry opened his mouth to tell her he was here for his uniform, but the lady – Madam Malkin, he presumed – interrupted him before he even got a word out.

"Are you here for Hogwarts, dear? Got the lot here – there's another man being fitted up just now, in fact." Malkin cooed, sweetly. Harry couldn't help but feel a twinge of annoyance at the witch (he didn't like being dismissed, you see) but he quickly masked his face and followed Madam Malkin, who ushered him right to the back of the shop, where another boy was standing on a footstool.

The boy was extremely tall, and had flaming red hair, which contrasted with his pale skin. He was standing with his back straight and his head up high, but Harry could just make out a sprinkle of freckles which covered his nose. He had a sour looking expression on his face, and a pair of thin, rectangular black glasses covered his eyes.

"I've never seen you before," the boy said, when Harry claimed the footstool next to his. "You must be a first year. What's your name?"

"Harry..." Harry paused for a second, remembering what Hagrid had said. For some odd reason, he didn't think that _this _boy was going to be any different from all those other people in The Leaky Cauldron. Quickly making a decision, he quickly covered his tracks, "Harry...Brad. Um, Harry Brad Pitt…that's my name." He lied. Behind his back, Harry crossed his fingers and prayed that the boy had never heard of Brad Pitt before.

It must've worked, because the boy held out his hand, pompously, and said, "Percival Weasley, Prefect." Harry noted the bright badge on his chest, and quickly shook his hand. After all, the redhead must be important. He didn't think he'd have a gold badge, otherwise. Even in London, only the Principal ever wore a brooch as shiny as that! (Of course, at that time, Harry didn't realise exactly how much Percy had polished it and that if he was the slightest bit sane, the pin wouldn't look half as pretty.)

"Muggle-born, I'm presuming?" Percival prompted. When Harry looked at him quizzically, the pompous boy continued, "People who were born from a muggle family. You would have to be, because I know I haven't heard of a 'Pitt' family anywhere, so you're not pureblood, and if you were a half-blood, you wouldn't look nearly as confused. See, my Dad works with Muggles. I think it's impractical, of course. He could have a higher career in the Ministry, one that pay him double the amount of Galleons he gets, but he prefers to work in that department."

Percival continued, not waiting for Harry to respond, "_I_ on the other hand, am going to get a _much_ better employment. _I_ am the _best_ in my class, and there's no doubt that I will possibly be the next Minister. In fact, as soon as I get out of school – I plan to apply for a job as assistant. I will be in hold of so much political power, that nobody will doubt me, not that they do now. Of course, everybody has to start little – and my Mother was _so_ very proud when Professor McGonagall named me Gryffindor Prefect. It was _such_ an honour – though I do have bigger plans in mind. At this rate, I will become Head Boy too!"

Harry was totally lost, and fought to keep up with the complexity of the conversation. Still, he found himself overwhelmed with dozens of different terms: What was this about a Ministry? And what was McGonagall...was he a Professor? Harry recalled seeing his name somewhere, but where? And, what the hell was Gryffindor? Was it the name of another teacher...or was it a creature of some sort? Why would they name _Percival _head of a creature? He'd heard you had to be gentle and patient to take of an animal, and he looked neither. But, then again, what would _he _know, really? It was his first day in the Wizarding World!

"What does he teach?" Harry asked, abruptly cutting of Percival's pompous rant. He couldn't help it really – he was just so eager! "Professor McGonagall, I mean. What is 'Gryffindor', anyway...and who are the Ministry?"

"You _are_ a Muggle-born," Percival concluded, disdainfully (he didn't like to be interrupted _at all_, and when he did, he got quite angry, you see), "You really don't know _anything_, do you? You ought to study more. I'd think that you'd want to know more about the Wizarding World. I should've known you'd be incompetent! You can't even carry yourself properly – your slouch is horrendous...and your glasses! You should have more tact. Taping them up! How could you leave them in such bad shape? Your parents would be ashamed! You look like an owl – they are _so_ common. _My_ mum said that she'd try and get _me_ something other than an owl!"

He couldn't help it, but Harry was getting very annoyed with the older boy. He reminded him awfully of Dudley, only more intelligent. He had just asked a question – and Percival had answered it by ranting off insults at him. And _he_ was supposed to be a Prefect! What kind of person makes a self-important person like _him_ a Prefect? He'd insulted his own Father, and then, to top it off, he'd insulted Harry's _parents_. The raven-haired boy could only take so much: insult the Dursleys, whatever. Insult him, he'd brush it off, he'd heard it before. But insult his parents, and you'd forever be on his bad side.

"I just asked what Graffindoor was," Harry snapped, fighting the urge to storm out of there. (The dull pain of the revelation that what he'd been told about his parents was a lie all along made him rather touchy about the subject.) Because of his sudden movement, Madam Malkin poked a pin into his arm. He hissed. "You don't have to get all fussy."

"Yes, well," Percival sniffed, haughtily, "To answer your questions, Professor McGonagall is the deputy headmistress – a _female_. The Ministry of Magic is only the most influential government in Great Britain! They control everything and they are very recognizable, well-known people with a lot of power. _Everybody_ knows that."

Percival shot Harry a piercing look (only it wasn't so piercing to Harry), before adding, "_Gryffindor_ is one of the four houses in Hogwarts, it was founded by Godric Gryffindor. It is the noblest house, and is full of successful, brave people who are pure of heart."

Harry gritted his teeth. He hated it when people acted like they were superior to him! He absolutely despised it. The Dursleys did it to him all the time, and now, when he came to the Wizarding World, he had been _so _hopeful that things would change. Apparently, it seemed like he was wrong. For once, _just _once, he would kill for the chance to be above them all.

But still, he wanted to know more about Hogwarts, and he couldn't deny curiosity. Frankly, it was only for that reason that Harry stayed put and asked (though rather impatiently) "What about the other three? There's Graffinsnore and...?"

"_Gryffindor_," Percival rolled his eyes, before assuming his proud position, "There is also Hufflepuff, which is for those with the kindest hearts. They are the most loyal and will stay true no matter what happens. Helga Hufflepuff was also a healer, and most Hufflepuffs end up being something similar. They like peace."

"There is also Rowena Ravenclaw's house, which is filled with people who are studious and smart. Ravenclaw is generally the cleverest people, but they tend to study a lot. Most of them aren't very social, but once you get to know them, they are as great as anyone. Most of them end up becoming Professors or Masters and Mistresses in various subjects."

"Lastly, the Slytherin house," Percival said this with distaste, "Founded by Salazar Slytherin, they are ruthless, evil and cunning. They are both ambitious and disliked. They have an obsession with snakes as well. I warn you not to go there, only the worst emerge from the snake pit."

Again, Harry felt a soft prick of irritation. He couldn't help it, he had lived with prejudice for years, and here was a pampered boy, mouthing off things about how going to 'Slytherin' automatically labelled you as evil. (It was the same thing the Dursleys had done to him, and he knew exactly how that felt like.) _And I happen to like snakes, thank you very much! _

The first kindness and civility that had been shown to him all these years (Mrs Figg and some of the teachers didn't really count, it was their duty to be nice to him) came in the form of an understanding Brazilian boa constrictor, so it was no surprise that he had adopted a sort of fondness for them. **(1)**

"_My_ whole family have been in Gryffindor for _years_. _My_ little brother, Ronald (Ron), is going to Hogwarts this year, but I can say that he doesn't compare to _my_ excellence, though he is a somewhat prejudiced. I was hoping to guide him this year, because my exasperating twin brothers, Frederick (Fred) and George are sure to try and persuade him to join them in their impertinent trouble-making. They are infuriating, and they have no respect for me at all!"

"I have two other brothers – one is off piercing his ears at Gringotts and the other chasing off dragons! At least William (Bill) has the sense to stay at Gringotts, which pays you _much_ more than what Charles (Charlie) gets living with dragons! I hope my sister – Ginevra (Ginny) – has some sense to find a better job. She is rather manipulative at times, and I think she is falling for the twins' influence, but I can only pray that she sees the light."

The exaggeration of names was ignored, and Harry was still reeling from the fact that there were _more _of Percivals.

"Which house do you think you will be in?" Percival asked, stopping his rant abruptly. "You look like a Hufflepuff. They're all sort of daft, not that it's a bad thing."

Daft? _He _was daft? Harry scowled, a horrible, dark sort of scowl, that would make even the bravest go into a shock, the sort of scowl that just _didn't _belong on an 11-year old, whether he was a completely pissed Boy-Who-Lived or not. Percival squirmed under Harry's gaze. They stayed like that for a while, until Madam Malkin finished pinning his robes. He nodded to her, and quickly paid for the robes. Harry didn't miss Percival's wince when he unlatched the huge velvet pouch (Harry had found it in his vault. It belonged to his father, something that had thrilled him so much he _had _to spend an additional ten minutes scouring the vault, regardless of the green expression that decorated Hagrid's face) and emptied the Galleons required. Then, grabbing his purchase, he eyed Percival one last time, and couldn't help but say _something _to him. It wasn't terribly polite of him – and surely, if Aunt Petunia had heard what he had said, she would be far from happy – but for now he just soaked himself in the self-satisfaction of knowing something Percival didn't.

"By the way, my name's not _really_ Harry Pitt, but _thanks_ for the chat." Harry smiled sweetly, before stalking out of the shop, not staying to see Percival's expression. As Harry exited the shop, he nodded curtly at Hagrid, still trying to calm himself down. Hagrid noticed this, because he quickly fell into silence, something that Harry wholly appreciated.

On his way to the ice-cream plaza (Hagrid had quietly mentioned that Harry deserved a break) Harry passed a crowd of people with shocking red hair, just like Percival's. He quickly stopped, unnoticed to Hagrid or the family in question, and strained his ears to hear what they were saying. He felt rather nosy, really, but he couldn't help himself.

"Oh _Peerrccccccy_ –" bellowed one of the identical-looking boys, as he rapped loudly on the window of Madam Malkin's.

"...You done choosing..." continued the second one.

"...Your fancy girly robes..." smirked the first one.

"...Yet?" finished the second one.

The young-looking girl, Ginevra, giggled but quickly ducked behind the elder female, who Harry presumed, was Mrs Weasley. The boy next to her was about Harry's age, and he didn't look all too friendly. He had a sour expression on his face, similar to Percival's – or was it Percy?

"Fred," Mrs Weasley scolded the first one, "George! You should know better than to tease Percy. He is a _fine_ young man – a _Prefect_ too! I don't expect you two to be as responsible as him – always tinkering and blasting things up in your room!"

Mrs Weasley turned to the scowling one and said, in her sharpest voice, "And _Ronald Weasley_ – wipe that horrible expression from your face _this instant_! Ginny, dear, could you please hold my bag for a minute?"

Harry suppressed a laugh at the family's weirdness, and, ignoring the dull throb of wistfulness in his heart, he dropped his ice-cream in the bin. As he was about to turn and follow Hagrid to Ollivander's, he caught Ginny's eye and she gave him a small smile. His eyes widened, before he grinned right back (though his cheeks flushed a soft pink) and then quickly hurried over to Hagrid, not able to keep the cheesy smile off his face.

"Hey Hagrid," Harry said, as he shot one last glance at the red-head girl. Something Percy had told him had sparked his interest. "Do you think that we can make another stop at Gringotts?"

"Why'dya wan' ter go ter Gringotts again, 'arry?" Hagrid asked, gruffly. He looked rather perplexed at the fact that anyone would want to meet goblins for the second time that day, much less sit on those horrible carts again (at the thought of that, he paled, and gripped his shirt rather tightly.)

The black haired boy was too deep in his musings to say much (or even notice Hagrid's reluctance), and so his words were nothing but a mere mumble, "I've got to talk to the goblins. A few things about my parents and stuff."

A few hours later, Harry returned to Dudley's second bedroom (now turned his), with a trunk full of books and a new Holly and Phoenix Feather wand in his pocket, and a vicious baby snake named Electra. Hagrid been surprised when he'd chosen a snake instead of the owl he had suggested, but he didn't say a word, though he kept sneaking suspicious glances towards Harry, which made him feel slightly miffed. Maybe Hagrid wasn't as great as he had made him to be?

But, nonetheless, Harry knew that there was no way he regretted his choice to go to Diagon Alley, even if Percy Weasley branded him a hopeless case.

He couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts – and to see that pretty redhead again.

* * *

"_Funny way to get to a wizards' school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**S**_tanding at the door frame, Harry approached Uncle Vernon, who was lounging on the couch, his moustache twitching. Taking a deep breath and reminding himself of Percy Weasley's smug smile (he wouldn't let anything stop him from showing Percy _and _the Wizarding World that he wasn't useless – not even Uncle Vernon), he straightened his back and stood in front of Vernon. The piggy man looked up, his chins wobbling as he stared at the now-fired up Potter. He gritted his teeth – he didn't need to be tall and a Prefect to be intimidating and get what he wanted!

"Uncle Vernon, I don't suppose you're going to London anytime soon?" Harry asked, trying to duplicate Percy's tight tone. "To get Dudley..._fixed_?"

Vernon grunted and looked up at Harry, suspiciously, "We were going in a few days, actually. Why, what do you want now, boy?"

"Well, according to that _rather_ big man, I have to go to Hogwarts on September 1st. You know, being famous and the heir to the Potter fortune, its only expected." the black-haired boy smirked, inwardly. By now, his nervousness had almost faded away completely. This was going just as he wanted it to.

"Fortune...famous...? What are you playing at, boy?" Vernon narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Harry faked surprise, "My dad – James _Potter _– left me several vaults filled with gold. You know, my trust vault by itself is equal to about a million pounds. When I come to my inheritance I get access to about 3 more vaults. I'm the only living heir. I'm also famous, because I'm some sort of saviour, which makes me untouchable. If they find me bruised, beaten, underfed or lacking clothes fit for a person of my status – well, let's just say it won't be me in trouble, if you get my drift. The _poor, poor _orphan, abused by his _evil _relatives..."

"Y-you're lying, boy!" Uncle Vernon paled, and chuckled nervously, "You're no richer than a beggar!"

"Really, you think?" As he grinned, wolfishly, he mentally patted himself on the back. All those mirror-talks had helped his acting skills a lot. He held up his hand, to show off a gold ring, with the Potter coat of arms glittering against it. Against the gold, red, silver and black, there was a small _'P'_ embedded on the surface.

"_This_, Uncle Vernon, is the Potter ring. One of the goblins," Harry held back an out-of-character snicker at the sour expression on Vernon's face, "gave it to me, when I made my 2nd trip to Gringotts. I was just curious about what else my parents left me. Since it was a rather _unique_ request, they took me to the manager of my family vaults, who _enlightened_ me on a few facts. I learnt a lot of fascinating things...did you know that this signet ring belonged to the last Potter head – my _father_?"

"Now, I'm not supposed to receive this until my 17th birthday, but the goblin said that the Potter family had some rather different rules. He said, and I quote: '_the heir to the __Most Noble and Ancient House of Potter__ fortune is to be presented the Potter ring upon the death of the previous Head. He shan't, however, be christened Lord Potter until the coming of his 17th year_.'"

Harry smirked, maliciously. He couldn't help it. Watching his childhood tormenter stumble over himself, at _his _manipulations, was horribly exhilarating. "Considering I'm the last heir, I basically have most of the rights a Lord has. I'm not, however, allowed to be emancipated until fifteen. That's fine though, because you see, this ring itself is worth quite a fortune."

Vernon's face was as white as a sheet. He stared at the ring – the boy was right, it would be worth thousands of pounds...if only he could grab it...

"Don't think of stealing it either, it can only be worn by those of Potter blood," Harry said, coolly. It was true, too, but Harry wasn't going to let Vernon find out the hard way (no matter how satisfying it would be) and then put the blame on _him._ "As I was saying, I need to get to Kings Cross, to catch my train to _Hogwarts._ And, being rich and all – I _do_ hope that I can be presentable, or who knows what they may presume is going on at this household..."

Vernon stuttered, but Harry paid him no mind, and glided towards his 'room' (something that had taken much practice, mind you.) Before he could leave though, he turned towards Vernon and gave him an innocent smile, "If I was you, I'd go call Aunt Petunia to go to the shops – I need some attire that doesn't make me look like an overgrown…_pig_."

Stifling a laugh, Harry hurried up the stairs, and collapsed onto his bed, letting Electra curl around his waist and hiss soft words of warmth into his ear. He had a feeling that things would be getting a _lot _better from now on.

As he closed his eyes, he didn't notice the dark veil of black that cloaked his body. Electra did, however, but she merely bared her fangs, her eyes gleaming in anticipation and recognition.

* * *

"_Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine — platform ten. Your platform should be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**P**_erhaps one of Harry's best discoveries was the fact that acting sly, manipulative and well..._superior_, even if you weren't, got you a long, long way. As soon as he went home, he had tried the method which Percy had called '_Slytherin_' on his relatives, and that had gotten them shaking in their boots. They had gone out of their way to ensure that Harry got his every need, and had even gone so far to tell Dudley to '_not disturb the Potter boy'_. It was surprising how just a wand, and a couple of threats got you so far.

He was now dressed in a very expensive green shirt, the same shade of his eyes, with a pair of branded jeans and posh converse shoes. He had a dark green watch, shaped like a winding snake. He wore a black jacket with silver lining over the top, and under his right sleeve, his new snake wrapped around his arm. Gone were his round glasses, and they were replaced by a rather costly pair of contacts, which apparently changed to fit your prescription. (Something that came out of his impromptu trips around Diagon Alley) Even though the man at the Wizarding shop refused to reduce the price, Harry couldn't deny that the contacts were worth it. At least now he didn't need to stumble around like a blind bat, when his glasses were knocked off.

After quickly making his way to Platform 9 and ¾ (Courtesy of "Hogwarts: A History"), much to Vernon's (who, after all the torment his horrible freak of a nephew had put him and his _normal _family through, had been very well prepared to laugh himself jolly at the would-be-mess) shock, Harry quickly dragged his trunk to the nearest empty compartment, and made himself at home. Well, as home as you could get in a train filled with loud, boisterous wizards and witches that could potentially fatally harm you. Sighing, he started reading his book – "_Pureblood Traditions_" – which was really interesting, especially since he hadn't a clue what to expect of the Wizarding World.

The book itself outlined all the traditions the Pureblood world had, and Harry started to see why some of the ancient houses wouldn't want Muggleborns allowed in Hogwarts. (This was a concept that Hagrid had hastily explained to him when Harry had pointed out the tall blonde man that seemed to glare at every bright-eyed, wide-mouthed child that passed.)

Not that Harry was prejudiced or anything – no, Harry would rather damn himself that be that – it was just that if everyone of noble background married Muggles or Muggleborns, who would be there to continue on the traditions and magic of the powerful, wealthy houses? Certainly not the Muggles, who seemed far more content with Science, and would probably scoff in the face of magic – or worse, history, would repeat itself in the form of Witch/Wizard Burnings. So, the Wizarding World would die out, plain and simple. And Harry, having seen a peek of the wonders of magic, didn't want _anyone _to miss out on it.

It was then, in the midst of his musings, the compartment door slid open.

A lanky red-head stepped through the doors, and pointed to the seat next to Harry, scratching his arm, "Anybody sitting there?"

Harry immediately recognized him as the sour-looking Weasley from Diagon Alley. He shrugged; mentally hoping that 'Ronald' would get the idea that he much rather preferred the silence. Unfortunately, Ron took this as a '_yes_', and he sat next to Harry. The red-head cleared his throat, "My name's Ron Weasley."

The Potter looked up from the page he was reading and raised one eyebrow. "I know," he said, simply, before turning the page on his book.

There was a long quiet, until finally, Ron broke it. He cleared his throat again, his expression confused but accepting, "Yeah...er...what's your name then?"

Harry didn't respond, but simply turned the page in his book. Honestly, he didn't want to tell anyone his name until they had earned his respect – or he was forced to. A couple of minutes passed, before Ron tried again. Harry sighed and looked up again. He grudgingly admitted to himself that he would rather just tell him his name, rather than spend the whole ride being pestered by the incessant redhead. "You have eyes. Use them." He pointed to his scar and then continued reading.

"Blimey! You're Harry Potter! You're the Boy-Who-Lived!" Ron exclaimed, his voice excited.

_Not this again!_ Harry rolled his eyes, and mocked him, "_You're the_ Boy-Who-Was-Annoying! Gosh, you'd think people here would have more tact!"

Ron had the grace to blush sheepishly. As the black haired boy went back to reading his book, Ron spoke up _again_, to Harry's frustration, "Do you still remember what happened when You-Know-Who did – you know...?"

"I don't know what happened to me when I was a baby, but even if I did, I wouldn't speak a word of it to you," Harry replied, not even looking up to see Ron's wince. He felt slightly bad, but then brushed it aside. It was his fault for being so damn irritating, anyway. There was another silence, and this time it stretched on for a few hours. Ron busied himself with his scrawny, ugly-looking rat (its name was Scrubbers or something), while Harry continued to read his book. By the time that Harry was on the last chapter – 'Balls and Formal Events' – the trolley lady knocked on their compartment.

"Anything off the cart, dears?" she asked, gesturing towards the pile of sweets. Harry put down his book, and eyed the cart, before nodding. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a maroon pouch (the ones with the words 'James Potter – Prongs' and a small golden stag imprinted on it.) He took out a few sickles and paid them to the cart lady.

He purchased a couple of Mint Mice – even if they weren't real mice, Electra had taken quite a liking to them, and she was currently nudging him through the sleeve of his shirt, hungrily – and a few Pumpkin Pasties, and one Cauldron Cake. He nodded at the lady with a tight smile, and she turned back to Ron and asked him if he wanted any. The red-head boy looked pleadingly at Harry, who pretended not to notice, before shaking his head at the lady, slightly miserable.

He pulled out four lumpy sandwiches and said, gloomily, "Mum always forgets I hate corned beef."

Holing back a not-so-sympathetic response, Harry picked up his book again, and chomped on the soft Pumpkin Pasty, idly wondering about the odd flavouring of the food in the Wizarding World. A few minutes later, the compartment door slid open to reveal a tearful, plump boy. "Sorry," came his wavering voice, "But have you seen a toad at all?"

When Harry shook his head, politely – well, he didn't really know him at all, and he was a lot more courteous than Ron had been – the boy wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"Did you try an _Accio_ charm?" Harry asked, still immersed in his book.

"I-I'm not very good at magic!" the boy sniffled, "Wait here! I'll bring Hermione!"

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could."

"You're one to talk," scoffed Harry. Frankly, Harry would get rid of a toad if he had one, too, but he wasn't going to tell that to _him_. Before Ron could do anything other than flush a dark red, the door opened again, to show the boy again, but this time he had a brunette with a huge head of bushy hair. She looked like a Ravenclaw. You could practically see the intelligence shining from her eyes.

"Neville said you're going to do magic," The girl, who Harry presumed was Hermione, spoke. "Let's see then."

Harry rolled his eyes, and pulled out his glistening wand (Ron shot it a jealous look, to his amusement), before turning to Neville, "What's the name of your toad?"

"T-Trevor..." Neville bit his lip. He looked like he was going to collapse into tears, any minute now.

Harry nodded, and waved his wand the way his Charms book had shown. The first time he had done the spell, he had become horribly nervous, but since the Ministry charm didn't activate until arrival upon Hogwarts (thank you to "_Laws for the Underage Wizard_"), Harry had been free to practice as much as he wanted. And boy, did he practice. He hadn't even glanced at the first year spells – he'd learn them this year anyway – and had skipped ahead several years. It had taken a lot more effort, and weeks of frustration, but he had finally gotten the hang of one or two spells which _he _found helpful. "Okay, thanks. _Accio Neville's toad – Trevor_!"

There was a swish zooming sound, and then a couple of soft screaming. Harry watched on, with idle curiosity, as a squishy green toad zoomed into Neville's outstretched hands. The pudgy boy looked extremely happy, and after thanking him repeatedly, he skipped off to his own compartment. The Hermione girl shot Harry an impressed (though her eyes sparked with desire – but not the kind that normal people would wear) look. Before she left, she turned towards them.

"That was a Fourth Year spell!" Hermione breathed in awe, before composing herself. She looked as if she was going to say something, considering how her eyes were narrowed, and trained onto his wand. For a minute, she looked extremely conniving, and Harry could almost imagine her hissing: _'Give me more knowledge.' _Grinning mentally, he shook off the fanciful image, just in time to see Hermione give a bright (but fake) smile, "Well, you'd better change. I expect we'll be arriving soon."

As soon as she left, Ron started bad-mouthing her. Harry rolled his eyes, and picked up the Mint Mice by the tail. Ron noticed this and started talking again, "I wouldn't eat them if I were you. I had one once and I almost choked."

"They're not for me, you_ idiot_," Harry snorted, "They're for Electra – my _familiar_."

"You have a familiar?" Ron asked, enviously, "You're so lucky. Can I see her then? Your owl I mean?"

"She's not an owl," Harry snapped. This boy was almost as bad as Percival was; only he was more bouncy and annoying. And _what _was with the stereotyping? Did he just scream out 'OWL?'

"Really...? What is it then?" Ron continued, in the same tone as before. "You must have a really cool animal, if it's your familiar –"

The door slid open _again_, only this time Harry was only slightly more interested in the people who came out. Okay, to be frank, Harry ignored the two thick boys who resembled bodyguards, but he was eyeing the aristocrat blonde, mildly. The blonde had apparently heard what Ron had said, because, he said in a silky , dubious, voice, "You've got a familiar? Funny, Father said that most wizards bond at such an age. Do tell us what your familiar is."

The blonde was somewhat pompous, but definitely not as much as Percy. Actually, he reminded Harry of himself, only perhaps with a bit more pride. So Harry shrugged and turned to his sleeve. Ron's eyes were bugging out, curiously, but the other boy looked on, coolly.

"Fine, but if I were you, I'd be a bit cautious," Harry advised. Ron scoffed, thinking he was joking. Harry rolled his eyes, before hissing, _"Electra, come on out. I've got some nice Mint Mice for you, and some people want to see you. The red-head is pissing me off, give him a scare would you?"_

The blonde looked surprised, and Ron's mouth was hanging open. Slowly, Electra slithered out _("Mousssse doessssn't sssmell like mousssse...") _into view and she hissed a reply, before turning to the Weasley and baring her teeth. The Weasley squeaked, before scrambling away. Electra quickly spotted the Mint Mice and swallowed them in two bites, before she returned to her spot in Harry's jacket. There was a long silence, in which Ron recovered, and the blonde resumed his cool expression.

"How _very_ interesting, you're a Parsletongue...what is your name again?" the blonde asked Harry, trying to hide the slight waver in his voice.

"I'd have thought that was obvious," Harry smirked, pointing at his scar. The boy's lips quirked upwards. "I seem to recall seeing you – or perhaps it was your father's family – somewhere in '_Most Prominent Purebloods of the Century_', may I question you and your companions' names?"

_Formal talk, what a bore, _Harry sneered mentally. _Oh well, if it gets me away from Ron then whatever._

"Companions...? Oh, right. This is Crabbe and Goyle," said the blonde, carelessly, "Their fathers seem to think it is necessary for them to follow me everywhere. Pathetic, really. My name's Malfoy, by the way, _Draco_ Malfoy."

Harry smiled at the name. Despite its _unique-ness_, it rather suited the wealthy-looking Malfoy in front of him (the girls at his primary school would call him exotic but dangerous, admittedly with a lot of screaming). Ron, however, thought this was funny, because he started sniggering. Draco didn't take this well, and he turned on the red-head sneering.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford." He turned back to Harry, who watched this with a hidden grin. He _did _have some discretion, after all. "You'll soon find out some Wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

Draco held out his hand and Harry eyed it for a second, before standing up. He dusted his shoulders, and for a minute Ron started smiling wickedly, thinking that Harry was going to hit him. Instead, the black haired boy reached over and shook Draco's hand, firmly. "I was just leaving, anyway. He was annoying the hell out of me."

Harry turned back to the compartment, where Ron was looking both betrayed and hopeful. Harry rolled his eyes and levitated his trunk into his hand. He waved his wand into an arc, and muttered a mild memory charm (it would hold for at least two more years, unless something sparked the memory – like an image of Harry feeding Electra a mouse – according to 'Useful Charms and Spells') and turned to the smug blonde.

"By the way, it's _Harry_. Harry Potter."

* * *

"_The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin."  
"Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**D**_raco was a good friend; at least once you got past his pureblood exterior. They had spent the rest of the train ride discussing several theories on the Wizarding World that Harry had been dying to confirm. Draco had seemed rather impressed that Harry shared most of his views about Slytherin, and so wasn't reluctant to share everything he knew about the Pureblood Legacy. One of the interesting topics that they covered was that the Head of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black was no other than his godfather, who was rotting in Azkaban for the murder of 13 Muggles. (Though, strangely, Draco refused to say anything about _how _he got there in the first place.)

For now, though, that was none of his concern, because right now he would be facing something that would determine his path for the next seven years – The Sorting. As the doors swung oprn, he couldn't help it – his jaw dropped. It was a hat – a bloody _hat_! Here he had practised his arse off for some sort of magical test, but he finds out that all he needed to do was confront with a _hat_! A _singing_ hat, at that! Harry felt unusually spiteful, and in his mind's eye, he felt like throwing 'Hogwarts A History' at McGonagall – stuff 'difficult decisions based on life's experiences!' Why didn't someone just tell him that everything would fall to a _hat_?

Draco had a similar reaction to him, only his was through narrowed eyes. McGonagall, of course, ignored them both (though she cast a wary look at them both) and went up to the stool. She waited until the hat finished singing its horrendous song, before she proceeded to give her instructions ("Sit on the stool and try the singing hat, how trying," Harry had retorted quietly) and then started listing off all the names.

Harry quickly snagged a spot near the front, so that he could clearly see everyone's reactions. Most of them were boring, as Harry didn't know any of the people, until Harry McGonagall called out, "Granger, Hermione" and the brunette girl from the train scampered to the front. There was a long pause (in which Harry watched her face scrunch up in distaste) until –

"SLYTHERIN!"

The hall went silent. No Muggle-born had _ever_ been in Slytherin before. Harry shot a look at the Slytherin table – where a few of the first years were glaring at her. The black haired boy was surprised to see that most of the older kids were just looking at their newest addition in interest. Hermione, however, looked positively distraught. She had the makings of tears in her eyes and she was muttering, "This wasn't supposed to happen! I was supposed to be a _Gryffindor_ or a Ravenclaw. It's not _my_ fault I was thinking about that boy in the train –"

That was all Harry heard before she made a dash for the end of the Slytherin table. Draco turned to Harry, and spat, "A mudblood in Slytherin! That's impossible!"

"Well, being the first Muggle-born in Slytherin has to count for something, right?" Harry shrugged, not really understanding why Draco was so fired up. "Besides, maybe she has some magic blood in her that she wasn't aware of. I read something about old families banishing squibs – for all we know, her great-great-grandfather could be Merlin. (Draco sneered at the thought) Like you said it's impossible, so either she's a half-blood and unaware of the fact, or she's ambitious and cunning enough to outweigh Salazar Slytherin's expectations."

Draco's repulsed face settled somewhat. "...you have a point, I guess. But I still don't like it!"

Harry smiled. "You don't have to. Besides, a Slytherin _is_ a Slytherin. So we'll just keep an open mind."

"Hm, speaking of that," Draco said, barely watching as Greengrass, Daphne took the spot next to Hermione, "Which house do you think you'll be in? You don't really strike me as a Gryffindor or Hufflepuff."

"Nope, Slytherin through and through," Harry winked, playfully. (Though, truthfully, he himself was in knots about what the hat would 'mark' him as. He supposed if he convinced himself he was a Slytherin, the hat would be swayed. Besides, how reliable was a _hat, _anyway?) Draco smirked, but before he could speak, his name was called out. The blonde smirked and nodded at Harry, before sauntering towards the hat, which barely touched his head before pronouncing him a Slytherin.

As "Parkinson, Pansy" was called up, Draco walked over to the Slytherin table and took the seat diagonal to Granger, who was trying not to cry as Greengrass patted her back. Draco looked rather awkward, but that quickly changed to annoyance when Parkinson slid next to him, giggling like a bimbo. Needless to say, he was doing his best to ignore them all, and still keep his emotionless façade – though more than one person could see the pleading looks he shot the raven haired boy.

"Potter, Harry." called Professor McGonagall, and it took him a minute or two to register that she had said _his _name.

Whispers flooded the hall, but Harry only grinned. Deciding to put on another show (after all, he had always been one for dramatics – having a drama-obsessed teacher for the majority of his childhood years had influenced him – and when would he have another opportunity like this?) Harry let Electra slither out of his sleeve. Smiling, he stalked forward to the stool, in a similar fashion to Draco.

Harry saw the black haired, pale Professor narrow his eyes at him, and the _extremely_ white Headmaster eye him with interest, and something akin to fear – or perhaps, regret – fluttered through his eyes. Harry ignored them all, and Harry eyed the hat, disgusted, before carefully putting it on his head. He could feel Electra curl around his waist.

"_Thissss hat issss in your brain, Massster. And thesssse two-legsss ssstare at you in the mossst unflattering way possssible." _Electra spoke, contempt licking at her words. She bared her fangs at the audience, absolutely horrified with the unsightly way they looked at her keeper.

People around him gasped and the black-haired Professor's lips quirked – though there was noticeable twitch in his eye. The Headmaster looked shocked (and seemed to be reminiscing about something he wasn't particularly fond of), and Professor McGonagall took a subconscious step back. The dwarf man fell of his chair, and several other Professors dropped their spoons. The only people that didn't seem shocked were Hagrid and Draco (who, in fact was looking positively delighted.)

Minutes ticked past, and people waited, anxiously to see what house he would be put in. A few more minutes ticked past, and a few First Years could see Harry's lips curling, and his hand reaching to caress Electra's head. The snake hissed, and the sorting Hat moved. Everybody held their breath, and the Gryffindors looked just about ready to start cheering (though half of them looked ready to faint – including a pale Neville Longbottom.) A few seconds of silence passed, before the Sorting Hat opened its brim.

"SLYTHERIN!"

The silence that followed was unnerving and so thick that you could cut it with a knife, but it only served to put a cruel grin on Harry's face. Electra slithered to the floor, finding a comfortable spot near Hermione, who looked like she was torn between analysing what type of snake Electra was, and screaming bloody murder, instead settling for a nervous, panicked frenzy.

Almost like a chain, the room exploded into chaos, and Harry was at the head of it all, nothing, if but completely and utterly satisfied.

* * *

"_Double Potions with the Slytherins," said Ron. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favours them — we'll be able to see if it's true."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**O**_ne of the lessons that Harry anticipated the most was Potions. They had missed their first class of Potions, because their Head of House apparently had to go somewhere. Draco had joked that he had a break-down because Harry was in his house. (In reality, Draco didn't know how close to the truth he really was, as Snape had spent a good deal of that day trying to bargain with Dumbledore – and the rest, drowning in his sorrows, a bottle of Firewhisky in his hands – to get Harry removed from Slytherin. He'd finally accepted it, though, if only because of the idea that James Potter would be rolling in his grave.)

Harry was abnormally 'gifted' in all the subjects, according to McGonagall, who had taken him aside after his first Transfiguration Class, but Harry had firmly denied it, saying that he had a months prior practice, and that he wasn't a prodigy at all – and, _no, _he wanted to stay in the same class, thank you very much. Still, he couldn't help but feel proud. Though some of the praise was all for nothing, as his classes were either very informative but boring, or just completely worthless.

Charms, Transfiguration and Herbology fell into the first category, but there was no doubt that History of Magic (which was taught by a horribly boring ghost), Astronomy and Defence against the Dark Arts were pretty much useless – and tedious to add. Even though Harry had been very interested in the latter (the prospect of learning spells in a practical, offensive/defensive environment seemed exhilarating) it seemed that Professor Quirrell was _not_ cut out to be a teacher, and Harry was sorely disappointed.

Professor Snape on the other hand – well, he'd just have to wait and see.

Meanwhile, though, Harry was getting along marvellously with most of the other Slytherins (apart from the pug-faced Pansy and her lackeys – whom he had lashed at, after they had attempted to fix him up with a girl from their gang). Draco was pretty much his closest friend, but Harry had a good relationship with Theodore Nott (whom was rather renowned for being an "idiotic badass with witty comments") Harry had also taken a liking to Blaise Zabini, but they hadn't had a chance to talk too much. Crabbe and Goyle, however, still followed both Harry and Draco around, but to a lesser degree. Harry also had a developed close friendship with Daphne Greengrass.

Daphne had grown up with Draco, so he had naturally introduced her to Harry. The blonde-haired, violet-eyed girl was pretty much everything Harry had expected in a sister. The three were really close, and were almost always seen laughing together. Daphne was funny and accepting, but still very devious when she wanted to be. She was the criminal mastermind in their group – or so Draco said, before Daphne proceeded to tip her goblet of pumpkin juice down Draco's robes.

She was also quite a 'softie'. She absolutely adored animals – and _loved _Electra to bits, much to the snake's happiness. Harry wasn't the doting type at all, so Electra had enjoyed basking in how much Daphne pampered her. ("At this rate, she'll run off with Daphne," Draco rolled his eyes) But, she had also taken pity on Hermione Granger, who was having a very hard time, being shunned by the younger Slytherins (and, consequently, the older ones too, as they cared only for political allies – they _were _going out into the world soon, in their defence.) Harry had noticed that Daphne would sometimes sit with Hermione in the Common Rooms, but the blonde girl would rarely actually talk to the brunette. Harry felt slightly sorry for her, but he resolved to talk to her later.

Finally the day of their first Potions lesson arrived, which they incidentally shared with the Gryffindors. Harry noted that Professor Snape didn't look particularly happy.

"Tanya (whom, apparently, was Daphne's second cousin, through marriage) says he gives the same speech to every first year," Daphne said, amused, "You think he'll go easy on you, Harry?"

"Probably not," Draco snickered. Harry raised an eyebrow at Draco's words. The blonde boy shrugged, carelessly and offered an explanation, "My father says that James Potter and Professor Snape didn't exactly meet eye-to-eye when they went to school. In short, they were mortal enemies."

"Oh, that's just great for me!" Harry groaned, "It's a good thing I'm not a Gryffindork. Still, I don't think being in his house will make him go easy on you."

"Pull up your big boy pants, Potter," Daphne laughed, "As long as you answer all his questions and impress you, I think you can maintain a mutual relationship."

"Sometimes I wish I was a girl," Harry muttered. Draco smirked, and looked like he was about to say something really insulting, before Daphne smacked his arm.

"I don't think that will make a difference," A soft voice came from behind them. All three Slytherins spun around, to see Hermione Granger clutching her books and looking rather awkward. She gestured to the chair next to Daphne, "Do you think I could sit here?"

"Er-yeah, sure," Daphne said, looking surprised. There was a soft silence, before Harry broke it, by sniggering. Daphne glared at him. "Oh, shut up Potter."

"Yes, _Daphne_," Harry smirked. He turned to Hermione, who was staring at her books.

Daphne and Harry exchanged looks, and they both nodded subtly at Draco, who suddenly looked awfully startled. _'This is your call,' _Daphne mouthed, her eyes gleaming threateningly. Slightly uncomfortable, Draco cleared his throat, "You know, Grang- um, Hermione, we aren't going to bite."

Hermione blushed softly, "I-I know, it's just that I-I thought you were – you were going to..."

"Act like Parkinson?" Daphne finished, sharply. "Not all Slytherins are that bad, you should know since you _are_ a Slytherin."

"Yeah, what happened to that confident girl I met on the train?" Harry bit out. Secretly, he wondered why he was even bothering. Probably because he didn't want to deal with a crying girl – it was both flustering and bad for his reputation.

"I-I-I just thought y-you'd despise Mudbloods ("Where did she learn that word anyway?" muttered Daphne, before looking discreetly at Draco, who had the decency to be ashamed) like me," Hermione hung her head.

Draco fidgeted slightly, and Harry, feeling slightly sorry for his best friend and his predicament, spoke, "Look, we're not saying we don'tlike them or anything – we're just keeping an open mind, and as far as we have seen, most of the Muggleborns are so caught up in the 'wonders of magic' that they completely mess up the whole experience of it."

"Besides," Daphne said quietly, "There _is _a small chance that you could be a half-blood. Your parents could be squibs or something."

Hermione looked so hopeful that Harry felt sorry for the girl. He remembered when he was in her position, shunned by everyone else. If somebody had offered their friendship to him –

Daphne smiled, softly, "But, this doesn't guarantee we're best friends or anything, but how about you owl your parents, and meanwhile we can spend some time together. You need to catch up on how to act and be a Slytherin, since you're practically Gryffindork material. No offense."

Hermione just nodded, her eyes slightly teary, "None taken. But...but are you truly serious? Will you guys teach me how to be...Slytherin?"

Draco exchanged looks with Harry, before nodding, "I guess we could try. I doubt Harry here will be able to teach you much, though maybe he could sit on a few of those lessons. Hm...This gives me an idea..." He turned to Daphne, "You thinking what I'm thinking, Daph?"

"_Oh_, yes!" Daphne grinned evilly, and almost simultaneously, the sombre mood lifted, "We'll give you both _Pureblood Lessons_! How to dress, how to act, how to present yourself and oh..._how to dance_!"

Harry gaped, all wistfulness lost, "You're _kidding_ me, right?"

"This will be fun!" Hermione smiled, enthusiastically. Harry was inwardly surprised (and slightly unnerved) at how quick someone could cheer the brunette up.

"See, Harry, you should have the same attitude as Hermione," Daphne scolded, before she turned to Hermione and started giving her pointers on how to survive this class.

Draco and Harry looked at each other, and mouthed in sync, "_Girls_!"

It was at that moment that the rest of the Gryffindors piled in. Harry sneered, spitefully at one in particular – Ron Weasley.

The two boys had become enemies ever since Harry had abandoned Ron on the train and been sorted into Slytherin. Ron apparently saw Harry as a back-stabbing, traitorous Slytherin git, while Harry saw Ron as an annoying, up-himself, ridiculous, pompous, arrogant Gryffindor idiot who was horrible at anything and everything. It was simple, really.

Before Harry could even _begin _his round of daily insults, there was a loud click of boots, and the pale Professor from the sorting feast swooped through the door. He silenced the chattering Gryffindors with a frosty look, before he took his spot at the head of the class. He called out the roll-call, and every single person fell silent until called upon.

"Hermione Granger, _Slytherin_," Snape said after a while, "How _intriguing_...a Muggle-born in the house of Salazar." At Daphne's encouraging smile, Hermione lifted her chin, indignantly.

"Hm..." Snape pursed his lips, before returning to the roll. "Daphne Greengrass, Slytherin. Yes, I've met your parents...Your mother is a Potions Mistress, is she not?"

Daphne nodded and Snape returned the gesture, "I expect much from you." He continued on like this, insulting the Gryffindors and making somewhat nice comments about the Slytherins. When he got to Draco's name he made much more than one comment. No, he started praising the blonde by saying how he knew that Draco would excel in his classes.

"He's my godfather," Draco whispered into Harry's ear. The green-eyed boy raised an eyebrow. That hardly seemed fair; then again, that _was_ life.

"_Harry_ Potter, _Slytherin_," Snape spoke, his voice tinged with a distinct distaste, "My, my, my...our little saviour has gone straight to the snake pits...I wonder what your dear, _dear_ Father is thinking right now."

Harry made his face as blank as possible. "I don't think I'm the right person to answer that, Professor."

"I'm sure," Snape said, sourly. He started listing more names, until he got to the _W_s. "Ronald Weasley, _Gryffindor_. Another Weasley I see..._pity_, I was hoping to be rid of such imprudent Gryffindors by now. Let us hope the _illustrious_ (the sneer he wore made Ron wince) line of Weasleys ends with you." Harry snickered behind his hand, which made Snape turn his head sharply. He narrowed his eyes at Harry, who plastered an innocent look on his face.

Harry saw something flicker in Snape's eyes, but as soon as it was there, it was gone. The Potions Master quickly turned away and finished off the roll with Zabini, before he cleared his throat. He spoke in calm, frosty voice which made everyone listen carefully. Harry found himself becoming more eager to begin the lesson. The more Snape spoke, the more the green-eyed boy admired the teacher. If this was his skills in giving a speech...his Potions skills couldn't be anything but extraordinary.

"...if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Snape finished. Draco and Harry exchanged similar glances, and then turned to smirk at Weasley, who looked just about ready to wet his pants.

"Potter!" snapped Snape, bringing the raven haired boy's attention once again to the front, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry knew this one. It was probably the first potion he had read about (simply because of its seducing name), "You would get a powerful sleeping potion – The Draught of Living Death. It is so powerful that the person that uses it falls into a deep slumber that can only be woken up from if the antidote is given. The first usage of the draught was in 1923, by a man named Sylvester Brookes. It got its name 'Living Death', because when Sylvester first used it on his wife, the side effects made her turn deathly pale, like one of a Vampire."

"Very good, Potter," Snape murmured, as Hermione's eyes widened. She grabbed her quill and quickly started listing down what Harry (Daphne watched her, amused, while Draco had a sour expression on his face) had said, "5 points to Slytherin. Let's try another one – where would you look if I told you to find me a Beazor?"

A Beazor? Where had he heard that before...right! It was on Page 345 of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_. Harry hid his satisfied smile, "In the stomach of a goat, sir. Extracting it is quite a messy process, because it is said to be found buried somewhere in the intestines of a goat. Of course, I wouldn't know exactly where, considering I'm no expert at slaughtering goats."

"Another 5 points to Slytherin. I'm impressed," Snape said, his lips curling upwards into a smirk. "I never thought I'd see so much potential from a _Potter_."

"I must've got it from my mother, sir," Harry shrugged. He was wise enough to realise not responding would only bring upon Snape's wrath, and even _mentioning _his father (if what Draco said was true) would be disastrous.

He eyed Snape, and for a minute he thought he saw the man's emotions shine through his endless black eyes. He looked – hurt? Did Snape and his mother know each other? Harry didn't ponder on it for long, because the Potions Master turned his head and looked at Hermione with a calculating look.

"Miss Granger, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" Snape quizzed.

The brunette looked up, surprised, and then as if she were reading off a book, she said, "Monkshood and Wolfsbane are both the same plant, found in Europe. They are a wild, cultivated and poisonous plant. It gives out yellow and/or purplish-blue flowers. It is commonly used in Muggle medicines. The Latin name for monkshood and wolfsbane is _Aconitum napellus_, also known as Aconite."

"Very good Miss Granger. 5 points to you. Perhaps you are deserving of the crest of Slytherin after all," Snape commented, a slight sneer on his lips.

It was a good thing that Snape didn't directly insult Slytherins, or who knows what he may have said to Hermione. Nevertheless, Harry turned and smiled, gently, at Hermione, while Daphne gave her thumbs up. Draco gave her a quick nod and turned away, not wanting to look too encouraging. The brunette blushed, happily. You could see the light in her eyes slowly returning.

Snape spun on his heel and turned to Weasley, who had apparently becoming his favourite target. After the red-head lost about 25 points, Snape turned and in a low, dark voice, instructed them to begin their potion. Harry did so, and completed it flawlessly. Well, as flawless as a boy who, a month ago, didn't believe in magic at all. By the end of the lesson, even Snape couldn't deny that Harry was very good at Potions.

And neither professor nor student could deny that they had taking a slight liking to each other.

Well, as much as _Snape _and _Harry _could.

* * *

"_Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**F**_lying lessons were something that Hermione was dreading. Harry could tell by the anxious look she adopted every time Draco and he would talk about Quidditch. (Most of these talks consisted of Draco attempting to convince him that he'd _love _Quidditch, while he attempted to tell the blonde that frankly, he didn't _care_) Daphne, on the other hand, said that though she didn't mind flying she preferred to stay somewhere where she didn't have to worry about falling at a height of over 100 feet. ("You know, just for the quiet reassurance that I won't 'disappear,'" she said sarcastically) Harry, personally, was rather indifferent to the whole issue. Though, he couldn't deny that the thought of _flying _was quite thrilling.

Of course, he couldn't be much worse than Weasley, who would always enter the Great Hall, bursting with incessant praise for his flying abilities. ("If his Potions abilities are anywhere near his so-called flying skills, he's doomed," Hermione noted, with a small smile – causing even Draco to burst out laughing)

The day before their first lesson ("Saturday – No lessons…" Hermione sounded rather miffed) dawned, and it saw Daphne instructing both an irritated Harry and an enthusiastic Hermione on the 'Art of Façades.' Harry, of course, had already become sufficiently proficient them over the months before Hogwarts, and so he and Draco were practising smirks using conjured mirrors. It seemed like quite a vain thing to do, but they _were_ Slytherins, after all, and putting on false fronts was one of the only ways for them to survive in a house built on secrets and lies. Hermione eventually joined them, but it was rather obvious that not only was this rather uncomfortable for her, but she had a _long _way to go.

"Hermione, you have to sort of um...sneer and then quirk your lips up." Daphne tried to explain to the brunette. Harry snorted at the meagre explanation – she would never be able to get Hermione to smirk like that.

"But, _how do you sneer_?" Hermione asked, desperately. She really _was_ clueless at this sort of thing. Harry idly wondered if, in a bout of anxiety, she'd try to search up books on facial expressions in the library. He wouldn't be surprised, though Madame Pince's expression would be picture-worthy.

"To sneer, just put on the expression Snape has when he looks at Weasley," Harry laughed. "And if you want to smirk, just look at Draco's _famous _Malfoy smirk."

"Oi!" Draco said, spitefully. Before he turned to Hermione and shot her a charming smirk. Hermione was visibly melting, and you could practically see sparkles in her eyes, "_That _is how you smirk."

Hermione composed herself ("I'm not going to fall for your petty little tricks," she told him later, when he attempted to pull the same thing over her head) and quickly put on her cool facade. "Um, okay, how about this?" Her lips curled up, to form a smirk similar to Draco's.

"There! You got it!" Daphne grinned, before she turned to Draco and shot him a mischievous look, "I never knew Malfoy, here, could teach. Perhaps we should advertise him – 'Smirk expert Draco Lucius Malfoy, Hire for only 1 Galleon!'"

"I doubt he'd get any business," Hermione smirked. Daphne practically beamed, and Draco, unnoticed by the rest, went to sulk in a corner, and was only soothed by Electra, who idly opened one eye, before dozing back off to sleep.

By the end of the day, Hermione had mastered the 'Art of Changing Demeanours'. (Harry wondered how Daphne could think up so many different names in one go, but didn't dare approach her with that question, in fear of the blonde's dark sadism) The brunette was slowly becoming the fourth member of their little 'group', and Daphne was awfully proud of her (as neither Draco nor Harry had helped her much at all) work. Of course, no amount of training could get Hermione – ever the over-achiever – ready for the next day, and she spent any free time she had going through 'Quidditch Through the Ages.'

The day of their flying lessons finally arrived. It was an afternoon perfect for flying (or so Draco preached.) The sky was a beautiful, clear blue, and the emerald grass was tinted with morning dew. The trees stood proud, and the Giant Squid was swimming around, happily. The sun was shining and everything – even the dungeons – seemed more bright and joyous. Even Hermione couldn't deny that the new atmosphere eased her nerves considerably.

The Slytherins were the first on the Quidditch pitch. (Or, if you wanted to get technical, _Draco _was the first on the pitch, followed by a moody Harry and co.) Madam Hooch was rather annoyed when the Gryffindors turned up 10 minutes late, causing her to deduct about 15 points. Then, she briefed them on what they would cover in their flying lessons, before telling them all to put their hand over their broom and say "Up".

"UP!" Harry commanded, and the broom shot up into his palm. Harry turned to his left, to see that out of all the people, only Draco, Daphne, Theodore and he had gotten a hold of the broom. Hermione, on the other hand, was staring unsurely at her broom, which was wavering along the ground. Finally, the brunette gave a frustrated sigh, put on her best Slytherin mask, and coolly lifted up the broomstick. Draco's lip twitched in approval, something that was rather rare, considering he was still wary around Hermione (though, in his defence, he hid it as best as he could.)

Madam Hooch walked around and inspected everyone's grips, but when she got to Draco she frowned and pointed out that his grip was _entirely _wrong. Draco flushed, and Weasley started snickering. Harry sighed, impassively, as a furious Draco clenched onto his broomstick, shooting the redhead very threatening glares. If Madam Hooch witnessed any of this, she paid it no mind, but instead told them all to lift themselves into the air, on their broomsticks, before dropping.

Of course, Longbottom took this literally (whether it was intentional or not) because in the span of two minutes, he had lost control of his broomstick and had dropped to the ground, and injured his wrist. Rather pathetic, really. Longbottom reminded him of Dudley, only he was a lot more weak and puny. Naturally, anything even close to resembling his fat cousin, Harry disliked. So, when Draco grabbed Longbottom's Remembrall, Harry made no move to stop him.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" sneered Draco, tauntingly. Harry smirked as he took his spot on Draco's right. (Though he didn't care much for Draco's taunting, it was only fitting that he stood on the side of his best friend) Daphne laughed from the blonde's other side, and soon all the other Slytherins joined in, even Hermione who was smiling (though very uneasily) at the rather amusing display.

"Shut up, Malfoy," snapped Parvati Patil, one of the Gryffindors.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom, Patil?" said Daphne, as she stepped forward to face the Indian girl, threateningly. "Never thought _you'd _like fat little cry-babies –then again, I suppose it is only normal for someone of your…_class _to fall for someone as pathetic as Longbottom."

Hermione was distinctly uncomfortable by then. Neville _had_ been nice to her on the train... she rubbed her hand nervously.

"Look!" Draco smirked, darting forward and snatching up the glittering Remembrall. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

"What a fitting present," snorted Harry (in a bout of spitefulness) as he snatched the Remembrall from Draco's hands, "for someone of Longbottom's quality. Don't even know how that idiot got into Gryffindork anyway. I thought it was for the reckless and annoying, not for the stupid and worthless."

All four of which described Dudley Dursley perfectly.

Harry felt rather hypocritical, assuming that Longbottom was the same as Dudley, but the similarities where to glaring to say otherwise. They both had rich guardians who spoiled their guts, but yet they were both utterly incompetent at everything, except for cowering behind others' backs.

And Harry _hated _cowards.

"Give that back you back-stabbing Slytherin!" yelled Ron, as he stepped in front of the crowd. A dark shadow crossed the Boy-Who-Lived's face. He had nothing much against Longbottom, but if _Weasley _was intervening…

Harry grinned, before turning to Draco, who nodded, his cool grey eyes gleaming sadistically. Harry gripped his broom, "Nah – I think we'll leave this here somewhere Longbottom can find!" He swung a foot over the broom, and launched himself into the air. ("He's never flown before!" Hermione gasped, only to be silenced by Daphne soft smile) Harry was surprised at how easy it was to fly – it was like a second nature. Letting the sensation of absolute _freedom_ envelop him, Harry tossed the Remembrall to Draco, who was also hovering in the air.

Draco looked down at the Gryffindors, "What? Are you too scared to come up and fly Weasley? Or were all those fanciful tales of your childhood plights just a load of gibberish then?"

"I always knew you were a good for nothing liar," Harry said, starkly, "Don't even deserve something as stupid as Gryffindor, you do."

Weasley turned red and he grabbed his broom and furiously flew upwards, his arms wobbling as he gripped the tattered surface. "Give it here, Malfoy, or I'll knock you off your broom!"

"Oh yeah?" Draco sneered, as he threw the ball to Harry, who caught it flawlessly. "You're going to have to do a lot more than knock me off my broom."

"How about we see how good you can catch, Weasley?" Harry laughed, manically. The winds rushed past him, making him feel more…more _powerful _than he had ever before. Shooting Draco a look, he threw the ball into the air, and then raced back down to the ground. Once he made it down, he grinned, darkly, and watched Weasley desperately try to find the Remembrall.

Suddenly there was a loud shout, and several Gryffindors backed away when they saw a simply _furious_ Madam Hooch stomping over to where the red-head was darting around, "RONALD WEASLEY! WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT FLYING? COME WITH ME TO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE IMMEADIATELY!"

Harry couldn't keep the glee of his face, as he watched Weasley's two best friends – Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas – attempt to calm the raging Madam Hooch down, trying to explain that it wasn't Ron's fault. Meanwhile, the said Weasley had sidled up to where Daphne was giggling and praising Draco and Harry on their antics. Weasley looked furious. "I'll get you both – you're just slimy Slytherins! You got lucky today; I bet you I could beat you anytime, anywhere!"

"Okay, then," Malfoy leered, "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only — no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

Harry shook his head, silently berating Draco for his rashness.

"Of course he has!" Dean exclaimed as he came from behind Weasley, "I'm his second – who's yours?"

_Was that a challenge?_ He wasn't going to back down from that. He lifted his half-lidded eyes to glare up at them (sometimes he _hated_ being short), "I am, of course. So, you think you can match up to the power of the Boy-Who-Defeated-The-Dark-Lord, Thomas?"

"Ha!" Finnegan snorted, as came up behind him, "Ron and Dean will teach you Slytherins a lesson!"

_Do you think I can't smell it? Uncertainty…weakness…you doubt yourself, Finnegan, and that you should._

Daphne sneered, "Midnight all right? They'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

Needless to say – Filch would be getting a rather mysterious tip today.

* * *

"_It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**E**_ventually, after weeks of uncomfortable and guilty thoughts, Hermione had gathered up enough courage to go up and confront Neville. It was exactly two weeks after the Flying Incident, and Hermione hadn't been able to disguise how wary she was with Harry, Daphne and Draco. It was like they had two personalities – the mean, Slytherin one and the nice, friendly one. Hermione knew that it was just a façade (or so they told her) but nevertheless – how could one not mean something and look like they did?

_And…what if they were playing with her?_

Clutching Neville's Remembrall in her left hand, Hermione sprinted to catch up with Neville. When the plump boy didn't turn, Hermione made her move, "Hey Neville!"

Neville turned around, and the first thing he registered was the Slytherin crest on Hermione's uniform. Neville took a step back and faltered, "W-What d-do you w-want!"

Hermione ignored his whimpers, and handed Neville his Remembrall, "I'm here to give it back to you. You dropped it in the Quidditch field the other day – you know when you lost control of your broom."

"I-If you're here t-to t-tease me go f-find someone e-else!" Neville shouted, as he dropped the Remembrall. It shattered into tiny shards, and the red smoke turned into crimson powder. Neville didn't seem to care, "Y-You probably jinxed it anyway!"

"No _Neville_!" Hermione protested, taken aback, "I'm just here to tell you that despite what the other Slytherins think – I still value you as a friend."

"You're lying!" Neville yelled, all stuttering gone. He looked like he'd had an absolutely horrible day, much to Hermione's dismay. "You're just a slimy Slytherin like the rest of them! If I'd known you would be a Slytherin on the train I'd never have asked you to sit with me! I thought you'd be smart like a Ravenclaw! I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND! I COULD NEVER BE FRIENDS WITH A WANNABEE DEATH EATER!"

_Tears, streaming down his face. Something happened. Something bad._

_Emotion is a weakness. Remember that Hermione._

"W-what?" Hermione stammered, "I thought you asked me because – because?"

"Nobody wants to be friends with _you_, Granger," said an insulting voice from behind. Hermione turned to see Ron Weasley glare at her, with half the Gryffindor class behind them, "You're just a disgusting know-it-all! Even your _Slytherin_ buddies have ditched you!"

_Was this…was this because I outclassed him in Charms today?_

_I…I didn't mean it…_

"Yeah, they probably realised that you were just a stupid bitch," cried someone in the crowd, a brown haired boy (whom had been on the receiving end of McGonagall's temper when the Slytherin's _thrashed _her lions in Transfiguration.)

The shoutings and yells continued, and Hermione backed away. Ron started insulting her in every way (barring the more obscene, Slytherin insults) possible and when Hermione turned to beg, pleadingly at Neville, he too turned away and melted into the crowd, his expression slightly upset. Hermione turned back to where the crowd were belittling her and her house pride. She looked for help for help from someone – _anyone_, but no-one even moved a muscle to do anything other than mock her.

With a strangled cry, Hermione fled to the girl's bathroom.

* * *

"_How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed__ the stairs.  
"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron.  
"Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**D**_aphne was in a sort of flurry when they saw that Hermione hadn't come back for any of her classes for the rest of the day. At first they just assumed that Hermione ditched classes, but then Draco tightly reminded them that Hermione _never_ abandoned her classes, even if she was deathly sick. (Daphne tried to ignore the trace of bitterness in his voice – Hermione was _still _beating him in all his classes, except for Potions) That, of course, made them (Daphne more than anyone else) slightly worried. What worried them even more was that a whole flock of Gryffindors flooded the Great Hall, looking smug.

However, when the Weasley twins rushed up towards them, Harry had no words to describe exactly how concerned he was. Both the Weasleys turned to each other, with a solemn look on their face and they turned back to Harry. The first one spoke, "Hey, Harry, we've never met properly but my name is Fred Weasley."

"I'm George Weasley," the second one added. Harry exchanged looks with Draco – the Weasley twins weren't finishing off each other's sentences. It must be _beyond _serious.

"I saw you two at Diagon Alley," Harry nodded, politely, "But no offense, but why exactly are you here? You can't have just come over here to introduce yourselves."

Draco looked rather shocked, Harry _hated _Weasleys, he'd told him so himself! So why was he even attempting to be _nice _to them? Daphne silenced him with a firm look, and turned to listen, anxiously.

"I don't know exactly what happened," Fred said, "but our brother – Ron – took a whole bunch of 1st and 2nd years and they cornered Granger. I think she was talking to Neville, because according to him, she was trying to pull dirty tricks on him."

"Hermione?" Draco exclaimed, unable to help himself, "You're kidding me, right? The girl's such an angel (he rolled his eyes slightly) she wouldn't hurt a fly! As much as Daph- _we're_ trying to turn her; it is beyond her personality to be _that_ Slytherin!"

"That's what we said," George agreed, and for a moment, he got an odd expression on his face, when he realised he was agreeing with a _Malfoy_, but quickly put his pride aside, "But, anyway, he took a whole group and they started throwing insults at Hermione. Ron just came and told us – and we think he's a downright prat if he thinks that it's something to be smug about."

"We've pulled a lot of pranks in our day, but we're not that cruel," Fred added, "That's why we're here. We've come to offer you a truce. Not all the Weasleys are bad people – so, you can fight as much as you want with our brother, hell, we'll even help you, as long as it doesn't damage our family – but we're here to offer a friendship…of sorts."

Harry turned to Draco and Daphne, and they looked at each other silently, as if having a telepathic conversation. _They seem genuine. _Finally, Harry turned to the Weasley twins and gave a small smile, "Okay, you've got yourselves a deal."

Fred sighed, relieved, "Thank you –"

"Harry my friend. For a-" George continued, and Harry hid a smile. They were completing each other's sentences, so they must have been really anxious for their approval.

For some reason, the thought of someone wanting _his _approval, filled him with a dark delight.

"-Second we thought-"

"-you would refuse our-"

"-offer. We give you our-"

"-sincerest thanks."

"Glad to see you're back to normal." Daphne laughed, as she turned to her blonde friend, "Draco, so you're okay with this?"

"I don't real care," Draco shrugged, "Most of this has to do with Father and politics. Just stay off my turf and don't do anything you'll regret, and we'll be…fine. Just don't expect me to be all jolly about this. I'm only going along with this, because I trust Potter, here's, judgement."

Suddenly, the door of the Great Hall flung open. Harry whipped his head around, hoping to see a flustered Hermione make her delayed entrance. Instead, he saw a pale, shivering Quirrell stumble into the room. His turban shook for a second (Harry was slightly disturbed at that, and the weird sensation that seemed to _call out _to him –) before he squeaked, in a petrified voice, "_Troll_! Troll in the dungeons! Thought you ought to know." Then he gave a shuddering breath and fell to the floor in a dead faint.

Chaos broke loose in the Great Hall. Everybody stood up and screamed, or scrambled off somewhere. Later, Harry looked back on it and scornfully noted how _pitiful _everybody acted in the face of danger. For Merlin's sake, they were _wizards. _And the Muggleborns, screeching bloody murder, weren't much help either.

Harry, on the other hand, was worried about other things. "Hermione! She doesn't know about the troll!"

"Harry – wait! You can't just rush into things!" Daphne cried, as she grabbed Harry's arm, though you could see that she wanted to run off as much as he did.

_Probably more._

Draco nodded in agreement and turned to the Weasley twins, and in a clipped, reluctant voice, he spoke, "Do you think you could help us, here? Where did Hermione go?"

"We don't know-" George said, eyes full of panic.

"-Last we heard, she was outside-"

"-the Hospital Wing. But-"

"-We'll help you look-"

"-for Granger."

"Thank you," Draco nodded, curtly (barely concealing his dislike) before turning to Daphne, "The Mirrors, Daph?"

Daphne smiled, and pulled out two identical mirrors out of her pocket. She un-shrunk them, and then handed one to George, "You know how to use them, I presume? You say the password to access our mirror and vice versa."

"Of course-" Fred said, surprised. "-For the password-"

"-Our password shall be-"

"Marauder!" exclaimed the two, simultaneously.

Harry couldn't help but smirk, before edging towards the door, "_Marauder – Raider, prowler, intruder_...how fitting. You...Marauders...search the library and anywhere around the Gryffindor Common Room, we'll search near the bathrooms, Hospital Wing and around the Great Hall."

Fred saluted, "Yes sir! But how-"

"-Do we contact-" George eyed the Two-way mirrors.

"-you?"

"Password is..._Prongs_." Harry decided. Fred and George looked at him with a mixture of surprise and suspicion. Harry raised an impatient eyebrow, wondering what exactly was the deal with the password, before speaking in a rushed voice, "It was my Dad's nickname at school...now _come on_."

"We'll talk about-" Fred hissed, eyes still wide.

"-this later."

Daphne tugged on Harry's shirt, and he nodded. Dumbledore had silenced the room and had begun to tell them to retreat to their common rooms. ("Oh Morgana, doesn't he know the Slytherin Dorms are in the Dungeons?") The Prefects began moving around, but by that time all five of them had long since slipped out of the Great Hall. With one last parting nod, they split up. Harry, Daphne and Draco took right, while the Weasley twins took left.

Harry crept passed the Hospital Wing and peeped inside. It was dim and un-light. Daphne tip-toed in, and then five minutes later she emerged back out. Draco looked at her, questioningly, but the blonde girl shook her head. Harry pointed to the right and slowly slunk into another corridor. He inched past several doors, when he heard a soft thumping. He stopped, abruptly, and turned to face his two friends, a finger on his lips.

Suddenly the mirror flickered on, and Fred's voice was whispering, "Prongs, _Prongs_, are you there?"

Harry motioned for Daphne to give him the mirror, and she quickly did so. Harry looked down at the mirror, before saying in a hushed voice, "Marauders, anything to report?"

"No – all Gryffindors are in the Common Room." George continued.

Fred's face turned side-to-side, before he added, "Patil and Brown say no sign of Hermione since Transfiguration. You found her yet?"

"No," Harry murmured, as he looked at the large shadow that was silhouetted on the glass window. "But I think we found the troll, and it's not in the dungeon anymore."

"What!" yelled the twins. The figure of the troll stopped and Draco held his breath. After a while, it continued walking, its club swinging as it moved.

Daphne glared at the glass, and Harry shushed the twins, "You two go find McGonagall, tell her we're near the girls' bathrooms on the first floor."

"Okay, Prongs," said the red-heads, at the same time. The mirror's surface flickered, before the reflection of the twins disappeared. Harry turned to his two friends, who were eyeing the retreating form of the troll warily. Before Harry could speak, there was a piercing shriek. Harry's eyes widened as he turned to Draco, his residential curse expert.

"Draco – curses that can potentially harm trolls?" Harry rushed. "_Quick_!"

"Um... _Telumoccupo_ which removes weapons..." Draco muttered, wracking his brain. "Shit! I don't work well under pressure. You _know _that, Potter!"

"We don't have time for this!" Daphne growled, "We need to stop being bloody Ravenclaws and get our asses over there! Hermione needs us if she doesn't want to get bashed up by a troll!" As if emphasising her point, Hermione let out another terrified scream.

"Let's go!" Harry exclaimed, as the three rushed into the girls' bathroom.

Hermione was crouched down near the sinks, her wand thrown in one corner. The troll – an ugly thing with cold, granite skin – was advancing on her, his club held up high of her head. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, tears pouring down her face. Harry's face paled and he turned to Draco and Daphne, "Okay _Telum_ curse on 3...okay?" Daphne nodded her face even whiter than before, as it seemed to dawn on her that this was an actual _troll_.

"1..." Harry cried, and they all took out their wands.

"2..." They pointed it at the troll's club. "...3!"

"_TELUMOCCUPO_!" The Slytherins cried. Three identical, red beams of light shot out of their wands and hit the troll. His club went flying out of his clenched hands, and landed on the cubicles, smashing them into bits. While the troll turned to look around and he charged at Daphne, who managed to duck out of the way. The troll then turned to Draco and tried to hit him and Harry. They both got away but just barely. They quickly sprinted to where the brunette was. Hermione rushed towards them and hugged Draco, tears pouring down her face.

The Malfoy blushed slightly, before saying, "Okay, Hermione, grab your wand. Harry, how about we petrify it? Nice and easy, eh?"

"Shut up Draco," muttered Daphne, as Hermione grabbed her wand, "Offensive spells don't work on trolls. You know that!"

Harry closed his eyes. There was nothing he could do. He had to use it – lest everybody and himself would be killed. He gritted his teeth, and held his wand tightly. "_Avada Ke-"_

There was a soft, serpentine hiss and all the Slytherins turned and stared as Electra slowly slithered out of Harry's sleeve. Harry stared at his familiar, but she ignored him and stopped at the front of one of the troll's large feet. In one, quick motion she pierced her teeth into his skin, before retreating back to where Harry was. (_Trollssssss…alwayssss disssgusting creaturessss they were_…) With wide eyes, Harry curled a Electra around his waist, before turning back to his friends. "You guys know what to do, right?"

They all nodded, and so the four Slytherins spun around and pointed their wand at the troll, who was stumbling over his motionless foot. Without even looking back, they cried out, "_PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" _The troll stopped, and it looked like he had turned to stone. Then, after a few seconds, he wobbled and fell to the floor with a loud '_Thump_'.

Silence filled the room, and all four first years turned to look at each other. Daphne's straight hair was sticking to her neck, limply. She had small cut on her cheek and right leg, from where she had ducked from the troll. Draco's hair was sweaty and was sticking all over the place. He had a black-eye. Harry's hair was limp and he had a bulging bruise on his cheek. His shirt was stained rained, and Electra was curled around his waist, fangs baring. His scar was bleeding non-stop. Hermione looked the worst, by far. Her hair had lost its volume, and was tinted with flecks of red. Her arms and legs had gashes on it, from where the chips of the cubicles has struck her skin. Her eyes were red-rimmed and she had an "X" that led from her left ear to her chin. Her large buck-teeth had been chipped (something that later led to Madam Pompfrey's decision to shrink them to average-size), and her Slytherin uniform was spotted with so much blood, it made her look like a Gryffindor.

"What are you guys doing here?" Hermione's voice wobbled.

Daphne smiled, despite the complexity of it all, "We came to find you, you doofus!"

"Me? B-But I'm just a mudblood," Hermione said, sadly.

Draco scoffed, "Yes you are, but you're a _Slytherin _Mudblood."

"And our friend," Daphne finished, a bright grin lighting up her face.

"E-Even if I don't act like a Slytherin?" the brunette said, tears prickling.

Harry smirked, "Even then. Besides, I know all your Gryffindor has washed out by now. After what they did to you...well, that's why we _are_ so mean Hermione, besides the fact that we simply despise Muggles – and don't look at me like that, you _know_ we do. We are nice to those we like, and mean to those we hate. It's a survival instinct, and you need to learn it if you want to live in Slytherin. Soon it becomes natural to you, trust me, I know."

"I guess," Hermione gave a watery smile, "But I suppose it'll take a lot of getting used to."

The door suddenly slammed open, to reveal a flustered McGonagall, followed by Snape, Quirrell and the Weasley twins. Harry turned and studied their reactions. McGonagall took one look at the troll, and her lips thinned. Snape went over to the troll, his eyes gleaming, and examined it. Quirrell clutched his heart in an exaggerated motion, and leaned back against the wall, as if even the sight of a troll would send him into spasms.

"What on earth where you thinking of?" McGonagall scolded, "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Harry fidgeted slightly.

Snape looked from where he was eyeing the troll's foot, "That isn't any of _your _concern, Minerva, as they are _my _Slytherins. (He turned to said Slytherins) The troll – there is signs of poisoning in the troll. Snake bite, I presume?" Electra hissed, and Snape arched an eyebrow.

McGonagall was taking deep breaths, as if to calm herself, "Mr Potter, may I please see your wand?"

Harry shrugged (silently relieved he hadn't used the spell he was intending to) and handed his Phoenix Feather wand. McGonagall waved her own wand and muttered, "_Priori Incantem_."

Three ghostly figures shot up, one of a club, similar to the troll's and the other of the troll himself. The last one was barely noticeable – it was a hazy, red 'X' which looked as if it had been slashed through the middle. (Unbeknownst to Harry, only one person in this room recognised what it actually meant, and he was watching with an evil smile on his face) There was weird sort of inscription beneath the first two, and McGonagall dropped the spell once she had read it. She turned to them and gave Harry his wand, "How exactly did four Slytherins manage to knock down a fully-grown troll with _Telumoccupo_ and _Petrificus Totalus_?"

_She didn't notice it…my almost-Unforgivable…_

"Electra helped," Harry shrugged, trying to hide his surprise. He resisted the temptation to switch to Parsletongue. The only people who knew of Harry's 'gifts' were Draco and Daphne. Though, Harry had a feeling he'd be filling Hermione in _very_ soon.

McGonagall eyed them, and then suddenly gasped, "Merlin! What happened to you four? You look horrible!"

Daphne rolled her eyes and remarked, dryly, "Well, we aren't exactly supposed to look like beauty queens after a run-in with a troll."

"You'd think someone of her enigma and status would know that," said Draco, in the same tone. Hermione barely managed a smile at her friends' antics.

"You four will go to Madam Pompfrey immediately!" McGonagall instructed, fussily. "I'll have to notify the Headmaster immediately!"

"Meanwhile," Snape's frosty voice spoke, "For exhibiting true Slytherin qualities, although – unfortunately – with a touch of Gryffindor bravery in the mix, 25 points to Slytherin...each." Hermione's eyes practically radiated pride, whilst Draco looked mildly impressed. McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but instead barked at them to go to the Hospital Wing.

Harry was the only person to notice that Quirrell had been staring at them the whole time, with a curious gleam in his eyes.

* * *

"_I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**M**_alfoy Manor was absolutely beautiful in Christmas (or rather, the 'Winter Solstice' as Draco insisted on calling it.)

Harry gazed outside the Guest Room in which he was staying in for the summer, and smiled softly as he looked at the blanket of white that covered the trees and paddocks. Small snowflakes fell gracefully, and Harry already knew that deciding to go to Malfoy Manor with Draco was probably the best decision of his life.

Feeling warm and fuzzy, Harry slipped on his black robe, and tightened it so that it covered most of his silk green pyjamas (courtesy of two days of death threats towards Vernon and a rather sore arm form pointing his wand at someone so tall). He quietly opened the door, only to be bombarded by an over-enthusiastic Draco.

"Harry! It's the Solstice today! That means _presents_!" Draco grinned.

Daphne (whose parents were off to America) made her entrance, rubbing her eyes sleepily. "Merry Christmas, Harry – oh, I'm _sorry, _Draco, but I _refuse _to greet Harry by saying 'Happy Solstice!' – Don't worry, Potter, you got the easy way out. Draco woke me up by literally jumping on my bed. I wanted to hex him _so _bad."

"To be honest, I don't know why you didn't," smirked Harry, before enveloping Draco and Daphne, "Merry Christmas, guys."

"_Solstice_, Harry, _solstice."_

After a few moments, the trio climbed down the stairs and entered the Main Lounge, where Narcissa Malfoy was sitting primly on a couch, sipping from a dark green jug. Draco rushed up to his mother and embraced her. (Harry smiled. Everyone always assumed Draco was like his father, when in truth, he was a _Mummy's _boy, through and through.) Mrs Malfoy gave him a small smile, and patted his head. Daphne greeted her as well, and Harry nodded to the blonde woman, "Merry Christmas, Mrs Malfoy."

"Happy Solstice, Harry," came her sweet, regal voice. (Draco pointed self-importantly at his mother, "See! Doesn't that sound _so _much better? Christmas is so…muggle!") Laughing at her son, she smiled down at the raven haired boy, "But do call me Narcissa."

"Yes, as you should call me Lucius," said Mr Malfoy from behind them. Harry spun around and barely suppressed a small smile, as the tall man walked into the room.

Harry, truthfully, felt very comfortable with the Malfoys. Well, more comfortable than he had ever felt with the _Dursleys. _Despite their sometimes cold personalities, he had occasionally sat with them and talked, however briefly. Mr – _Lucius_ was the ideal Slytherin, never showing emotion, but even Harry could see how proud he was that his son had made such _wonderful_ friends. (Perhaps this was a genuine pride, or simply because of the political power this could grant him, but nonetheless.) Narcissa, on the other hand, was much more affectionate. She wasn't like Petunia, who would openly dote on her precious Dudley and had no intelligence at all, and for that Harry admired her.

Harry let himself be led to where he had a small pile of presents. Daphne and Draco had already opened their presents, most of which were very rich, but formal gifts from their family and 'fans' (Draco had been absolutely repulsed when Pansy sent him a fluffy, heart-shaped pillow with her picture printed on it, and had kindly, and furiously, asked his father to _Incendio _it.) Everybody turned to watch him open his presents, smiles on their faces. The green-eyed boy unwrapped the ones in green. They were all from his Slytherin acquaintances (he couldn't really consider them friends) at Hogwarts, and they had gotten him some variation of sweets. Harry turned and opened Daphne's present, which was a stack of books titled: 'The Mind Arts' and 'Delving into the Dark'. Harry grinned at her, appreciatively, and put the books aside. Then he turned to retrieve Draco's present, a wand holster and an ancient-looking book scribed in Parsletongue.

"Wow," Harry murmured, flicking through the book, anticipation burning in his chest, "This must've taken you ages to find." Lucius was openly staring at the book, shock flittering in his eyes and marring his normal impassive appearance. Harry silently reminded himself that though Mr and Mrs Malfoy had seen Electra, they weren't aware of his Parsletongue gift yet. (Hermione knew now, though. After all, facing a troll together tended to make you a lot closer.)

He turned to Lucius, "Do you recognize this writing?"

"I – I recall seeing it somewhere," swallowed the elder blonde. Narcissa looked over to Lucius, worried. Of course, _she _didn't recognise it at all, as she had never been much interested in Slytherin's history, nor was she once considered the Dark Lord's right hand.

Harry hid a secret smile and let Electra crawl out of his sleeve. "_Finally awake, are you? I know you detest the cold, but I was sure all the noise would've woken you. Merry Christmas, Electra._" Lucius looked just about ready to faint, and Narcissa had lost her cool exterior and was opening and closing his mouth, in a very unladylike show of shock. Draco started snickering and Daphne looked on, slightly amused, before nudging Draco.

Shrugging and deciding to let he recover, he turned to Hermione's gift – it was a large, metal snake poised as if it were to strike, its fangs bared. Two emerald eyes gleamed back at him, and Harry's lips twitched in delight. There was a small note attached to it:

_Dear Harry,  
When I saw this, I thought of you. Hope you are having a lovely Christmas at Malfoy Manor. Give Mr and Mrs Malfoy my best wishes.  
Yours Truly,  
Hermione_

Draco looked at the note, curiously, before passing Harry another present. This one was from Lucius and Narcissa, and its shape clearly gave it away. Sure enough, they had gotten Harry a broom. But not just any broom – _Nimbus 2001_. Harry, personally, was thrilled. Throughout his stay at Malfoy Manor, he had ached for a broom, since he had to keep borrowing Draco's old _Cleansweep 7_, whenever the two wanted to go out to fly. Narcissa must've picked up on it, because she just didn't buy him any broom – she and Lucius bought him a broom not even_ out _in stores yet. Harry turned and thanked them both, but they were still look rather flabbergasted, much to his enjoyment. Lucius was muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, "Dark Lord...Parsletongue...Impossible."

The next present was from Hagrid. It was a wooden flute, which sounded like an owl. There was another note attached, written in a very messy, scribbled scrawl.

_Dear Harry,_

_I haven't seen you in a while. Too busy with your friends, I suppose. This flute should do you well, I found it helps calm (and often put to sleep) many of my pets, especially Fluffy, who can be very grumpy when not played to._

_Perhaps I'll see you after the holidays?_

_Hagrid_

Well, that was what Daphne could decipher from the amount of spelling and grammar mistakes Hagrid had made. In truth, Harry felt a little guilty for not visiting Hagrid, but he knew how prejudiced he could get, but now that Hagrid had given him a present – well, he really did have to visit him. Sighing slightly, he turned to a thin packet, which was bright red. Harry didn't need glasses to figure out who that was from.

"I wonder what the twins sent you," Draco thought out loud, "It looks far too big to be the pranks bags they sent us."

"I don't know," Harry murmured, as he turned over the package. On the back, there was a small note stuck on, and Harry read it out loud.

_Hello Harry,_

_We never did get to have that talk. (We blame ol' Snapey, but hey? Who wants to argue with him?) So, since you are the son of a Marauder, we present you with what is rightfully yours, Prongs Jr. _

_To activate it, put your wand on it and say, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good" and to vanish it, "Mischief Managed"..._

_Trust us on this one! And put it to good use, just like we have!_

_Gred and Forge_

Eyebrows knitted in confusion, Harry undid the wrappings and pulled out a piece of parchment, with a rather old look to it. He felt slightly suspicious, but shook the feeling away. He had a truce with Fred and George, and they wouldn't go back on that. Daphne and Draco looked awfully confused, but Harry quickly pointed his wand at it and said, "I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

And at once, thin ink lines began to spread like a spider's web from the point that Harry's wand had touched. They joined each other, they crisscrossed, they fanned into every corner of the parchment; and then words began to blossom across the top, great, curly green words, that proclaimed:

_**Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs**__  
Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present _

_**THE MARAUDER'S MAP**_

Daphne gasped. There, on the parchment, was Hogwarts. Only, it didn't _look_ like Hogwarts. There were corridors and hallways, each of with small black dots spotted around them. Some were moving extremely fast, and others were stopping every few seconds. Harry spotted several dots in a red room, which was obviously the Gryffindor tower, two of which said "Fred Weasley" and "George Weasley".

"This is amazing!" Harry breathed. Even Lucius and Narcissa looked amazed. "My dad – Prongs made this map...I think Fred and George want us to continue the legacy or something..."

"How cool is this!" Daphne exclaimed, absolute enthralled, holding the map up to light, "There's secret passages and everything! Can you imagine the things we can do with this? We could prank those Gryffindorks so bad, and...We can dye Mrs Norris's hair green, and not get caught by Filch!"

"With this map we could sneak into every common room and still make it back to ours in record time!" Draco said, a malicious smirk creeping onto his face. "Oh, how I'm going to love using this. I never thought I'd want to hug those Weasleys so bad."

Lucius, on the other hand, was looking rather peculiar (though, perhaps it was because of Draco's comment), "So that's how they got around to the dungeons. I always wondered how Potter and his lackeys got away with pranking Severus so much."

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Narcissa opted to explain, "Well, your father and his friends – Black, Lupin and Pettigrew – would always target Severus for their pranks. He woke up almost every day with red hair and gold skin."

"Rather stupid bunch too," Lucius sneered, "Black ended up in Azkaban for the murder of 13 muggles, Pettigrew ended up blown up to smithereens and Lupin is god knows where, with practically no job thanks to Werewolf-Prejudice laws."

Harry swallowed, processing the new information. After a few minutes, he turned to Draco and Daphne, who were looking slightly nervous. This wasn't new information to them, having grown up in the Pureblood world. Taking a big breath, Harry gave a meek nod and turned to the last parcel. It was very light and as Harry unfastened it, something fluid and silverly fell out. Draco gasped, and the sombre atmosphere all but evaporated.

"An invisibility cloak!" Draco exclaimed, "They're supposed to be extremely rare! Who in the world would send you an invisibility cloak?" Daphne had a similar reaction.

Lucius picked up the note and showed it to Narcissa, whose expression turned sour, "This is Dumbledore's writing. I know this anywhere. Read it, Harry." She thrust it to the black haired boy, who took it warily.

_Your father left this in my possession before he died.  
It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._

_A Merry Christmas to you.  
I hope you have a marvellous Christmas in Malfoy Manor_.

Harry smirked. Use it well, yes he would. Armed with an invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map, they were virtually unstoppable.

_Power…give into it. Let it entice you..._

And for a split second, it was almost as if thick, shadowed arms were gripping onto his neck…pressing into his skin, choking him…

Then, as quick as it had come, it was gone. Harry blinked, and looked around to see the vaguely interested faces of those in the room and a slow, but sure, smile spread across his pale face.

* * *

"_Dragons!" he whispered. "Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons Look at these: __Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide. __"  
"Hagrid's always wanted a dragon, he told me so the first time I ever met him, " said Harry._

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**H**_ogwarts had been hit by a swarm of tremulous pranks, all of which were directed to the house of Gryffindor, namely Ron Weasley and his companions. Fred and George didn't know whether to regret giving Harry the map, or be thankful that they were spared from the cruel pranks. They of course, opted for the second. ("Oh, jolly good pranksters they are! Reminds me of the old days – when we were _so_ young and _innocent_…")

Draco, Daphne, Harry and Hermione had taken any chance to taunt Weasley. Hermione had taken a strong disliking to Ron after the incident with the troll. Though she was still a bit uneasy to help with the particularly vulgar pranks, her knowledge was very beneficial to the creativity. Overall, they were getting on spectacularly, and Draco was even slowly beginning to warm up to Hermione.

Harry continued to impress the teachers, and Daphne continued her little "Pureblood Lessons" (they were soon due to start the dancing session, joy). Things seemed perfect for a while, until Hermione came up to them, her voice excited, "You'll never believe the dirt I dug up on Ro-_ Weasley_. He and his lackeys were in the library, and Hagrid was there. According to them, Hagrid is breeding an illegal dragon egg! Weasley, Thomas and Finnegan are going to attempt to smuggle it out!"

Draco's lips curled into his legendary smirk, "Oh Merlin – this _is_ major. Harry, do you have your invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map? We're going _Weasley_-hunting tonight."

Before Harry could answer affirmative, an owl swooped down and dropped a letter in Hermione's arms. Daphne looked surprised and turned to the brunette, "It's been ages since you got a letter. What did you write to your parents about?"

"My heritage," Hermione took a deep breath. She cracked the seal and read it silently. Her eyes widened at the words and she seemed hopeful. She quickly handed it to Harry to read.

_Dear Hermione,_

_We're doing splendid over here. I am so glad you have such nice friends; I do hope I can meet them soon. How about that Harry boy? You said he lived with Muggles? Now that I think about it, I do remember seeing Privet Drive somewhere nearby our house. According to Eric, it is about a ten minutes walk away. Perhaps you could visit him; if it turns out I am correct._

_We do miss you. Christmas was wonderful. Your Grandma – Alice Granger – was rather insistent to see you. I managed to dissuade her by saying that you were gone to a private boarding school. She seemed rather surprised when I said it was in Hogwarts._

_You're asking about your heritage? That is a rather peculiar question. Well, I never really thought that you have some hidden magic relatives or something. Wait, now that I do recall, your father has admitted on many occasions that Alice acts quite odd, like she's from another world, but I doubt that it means much though. My father, Derrick Livrepur (yes that was my maiden name), would always go off at random times. It perplexed both my mother and I, but back then I would pass it off as French behaviour. I don't think you should worry your pretty little head about it though._

_I can't wait to see you when the holidays approach. Your Father and I miss you very much!_

_Love your mother,_

_Lydia Granger_

Daphne, for some reason, looked horribly frustrated. Harry turned to her, questioningly, and the blonde girl gave an aggravated groan, "I've heard that name –_ Livrepur _somewhere! It's on the tip of my tongue! I remember Father talking about it once...!"

"Daph," Hermione giggled, "Chill. We can figure out my heritage later, okay? For now, let's get some dinner. I want to be there when you rat Weasley out to McGonagall."

"Yeah," Draco agreed, his stomach grumbling, "I'm dying for some Treacle Tart..._mm_."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked Draco on the head. The blonde scowled and rubbed his forehead, biting back an insult. Dinner passed by in a similar fashion, with Daphne's curious words, Harry's biting remarks, Draco's arrogant comments and Hermione's intelligent suggestions (and smacks, much to Draco's chagrin, as most of them were directed at him. It seemed no matter what, there was always someone to hit him – first Daphne, and now Granger!)

So, as soon as they were dismissed, Draco and Harry hid under the latter's invisibility cloak, and Daphne and Hermione disillusioned themselves. With brisk instructions to get to the Gryffindor Tower, the Slytherins made their way to the Fat Lady's portrait. Harry operated the Map, and as soon as he saw Ron Weasley's dot move towards the Astronomy Tower, he let his hand slip through the cloak. Flicking his fingers, the two girls disillusioned themselves and made their way to McGonagall, to use their sweet girlish-ness to their advantage.

Sure enough, just as the night sky saw the backside of a fluttering dragon, and the Astronomy Tower witnessed the wrath of Professor McGonagall, Gryffindor was 150 points down, and Slytherin was up by another 25. At this rate, it was pretty obvious who would win the House Cup, and it wasn't the Gryffindorks.

* * *

"_You can't go out," said Neville, "you'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."  
"You don't understand," said Harry, "this is important."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**H**_arry lay on his stomach, idly watching as little dots scurried past him. Exams were over and he had breezed through them easily, as had the rest of his friends (especially Hermione) of course.

He closed his eyes, savouring the cold air of the dungeons before slowly blinking. He turned to look back at the Map, when he felt his eyes drawn to a particular part of the map, where he noticed something odd. There was a small dot moving towards the third floor corridor. The _forbidden_ corridor. That wasn't the weirdest bit though – the dot was labelled, 'Quirinus Quirrell'...but it was _also_ labelled, 'Tom Riddle'...and they both seemed to be heading for a rather large person (considering the dot size) named 'Fluffy'!

Now, Harry had considered himself an expert at how to work this map, having had it for so long, but even _he _hadn't encountered something like _this_.

Scrambling to his feet, Harry slipped on his shoes, grabbed the Map (and his invisibility cloak) and flew down to the Common Room. He turned to look around, but the only ones there were Daphne, Draco and Hermione, who were talking over a game of chess. Quickly spotting them, he sprinted over there and placed the Map over the chessboard, knocking over all the pieces. Before Draco could say a word of complaint, he pointed at the dot, which was now in front of Fluffy. "Look! Somebody is trying to get into the forbidden corridor!"

Daphne raised an eyebrow, dubiously, before looking down to where Harry was gesturing, and gasped, "Why is Professor Quirrell trying to get down there? It's forbidden, and probably for a good reason too!"

"Maybe…maybe it's not because the corridor is dangerous, but because…it's…it's…sealing something? Maybe Quirrell wants to steal something important?" Harry bit his lip. "I mean, why else would you say the corridor is off bounds? I know it wasn't last year, from the reactions of everyone else – but unless it caved in or was hexed…"

"It was in perfect condition," Daphne reasoned, "so that means that Professor Quirrell _is _trying to steal something!"

"But, how is that possible?" Hermione bit her lip, "Tom Riddle's dot is exactly on top of Professor Quirrell. That's not supposed to happen!"

"Unless this Riddle guy is sitting on him," Draco commented, studying the map, suspiciously.

"Sitting…sitting? Or maybe…? The map shows where your conscious is…your spirit, not your body. So, if somebody was merging their spirit with…" Harry clicked his fingers, "That's it! Tom Riddle must be somehow possessing him! That's the only explanation!"

"I can't believe I was so oblivious to not notice this before!" Light dawned on Hermione's eyes, as she realised what Harry was implying, "Quirrell was the first one to notice the troll. What was he doing in the dungeons anyway? Tom Riddle must have possessed him, and so he led the troll in – and then faked his scared reaction! Didn't his qualifications say that he was an _expert _with trolls?"

"But – who in the world would posses Quirrell? And why?" Daphne questioned, blonde hair swinging.

Harry thought back. There must be _some _part of this puzzle that he was missing...there had to be! His eyes widened. "Wait! Now that I think back, I remembered seeing Quirrell the day I went to Diagon Alley...my birthday..."

"And the day Gringotts was broken into!" Draco finished.

"So, whatever Quirrell-Possessed tried to take out, was emptied that day," Hermione said, thoughtfully, "So, somebody must have taken it out – but whom? And why did whoever place the object in Hogwarts!"

Something else clicked in Harry's mind, "When I first went to Gringotts, Hagrid took something out of a vault. A small, grubby package. He said it was Hogwarts business...very secret. Why would he do that in front of me, unless..."

Daphne was getting the drift, "Dumbledore _wanted_ you to take note of it! I bet you he expected you to become a Golden Gryffindor and somehow uncover the secret...a test."

"So it was a test?" Draco repeated, before shaking his head. "No, I don't think so. I think Dumbledore knew that someone would try and steal the package, but he just let it play out. It must be far more serious than playing his manipulative games. Even Dumbledore wouldn't _dare_ break into Gringotts."

"Harry," the brunette turned to him, "Do you remember anything else? _Anything_?"

"I went to Gringotts again, later," Harry murmured, eyes knitted, "I remember a goblin – he was a newbie, I think – asking Hagrid whether he was here for '_Nicolas's Stone_' again."

Hermione's eyes lit up, "_Nicolas_! Where have I heard that name before? Wait…Nicolas…_Nicolas Flamel_ – the…the only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!"

Daphne's eyes turned as big as saucers. Draco and Harry exchanged confused looks, so the blonde girl quickly recited, " '_The Sorcerer's Stone can turn anything into gold, and it can produce an Elixir that makes the drinker immortal_!' "

"So Quirrell's possessor wants to become immortal?" Draco tested. "But who would go through so much trouble to become immortal?"

"Remember that day we visited Hagrid?" Harry was on a roll, "What he said? He said that somebody had been slaying unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. Drinking their blood."

" '_Only one who has nothing to lose and everything to gain would kill such a pure creature, but from the moment the blood touches your lips, you live a cursed life._' " Hermione repeated, "Think hard. Who had nothing to lose – no body, no heart, and no family – but can gain everything from becoming immortal?"

"The Dark Lord!" exclaimed Draco, "And he's powerful enough to pull of such an act!"

The room fell into silence, as if the impact of Draco's words had just hit them

Daphne's face changed, and she turned to the brunette, "That means he's alive. He'll find a way to come back. If he comes back, Hermione, he'll eliminate all the Muggleborns. Including _you_, Hermione."

Hermione's lip quivered, and her lips parted, but no words came out.

"When it comes to the Dark Lord, it is either you join him – or you die," Draco said, solemnly. He turned away, not wanting to get caught up in anything. Harry remained quiet.

"Then I'll join him!" Hermione burst out, and suddenly she faltered, "I'm a Slytherin – that's got to count for something! And Daphne – you said I might be half-blood or something...s-so..."

Daphne stood up, "What are we going to do? We can't just sit here."

"I'm going down there," Harry decided, following in suit, "This whole thing with the 'Dark Lord' is purely hypothetical, and either way, I want to see what's going on, whether it's to help or not." Daphne nodded, and she and Draco grabbed their wands.

Hermione looked up, and wiped the tears from her face, "I'm coming too."

Harry sighed, and said, gently, "_Hermione_..."

"No!" Hermione said, determined. She stood up and clutched her wand, "I _am_ coming, no matter what you say. I might feel iffy about being…being with..V-Voldemort, and I might not be as Slytherin as you three, but _I am coming with you_."

Draco looked down at her, "Why do you want to come so badly anyway?"

"B-because…you were my first friends…and I swore I'd stand by your side…I can't just abandon you because of something as stupid as my own fear," the brunette said, eyes still blurry. "I don't care about the Dark Lord – it's _you _I want to help! I can't just stay here, knowing you could very well be on the verge of death!"

Daphne sighed, "Harry, she's not going to give up, you _know_ how stubborn she is!"

"_Fine_...you can come," Harry gave in, running his hand through his dark hair, tiredly. He approached the door leading out of the common room, his three companions trailing behind him, but before he left, he paused, patted his pocket, and sure enough, he could feel the distinct lump of a flute. (After all, Hagrid had made reference to 'Fluffy' in his Christmas note, and Harry, in his rush to show the others his discover, had barely remembered the note, and had shoved the flute in his pocket, assuming Hagrid was talking about the huge, dangerous-looking dot in the third floor.) With a deep breath, Harry stepped through the door.

And that was how four first years found themselves running towards the third floor, a gesture that might as well have gotten them killed.

* * *

"_Sir! The Stone! It was Quirrell! He's got the Stone! Sir, quick —"  
"Calm yourself, dear boy, you are a little behind the times," said Dumbledore.  
"Quirrell __does not__ have the Stone." _

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**A**_fter Hermione had flung open the door with a quick "_Alohomora_", the Slytherins found themselves face-to-face with a gigantic Cerberus, something that they definitely didn't expect. Before anybody could react, Harry had whipped out his flute – the one that Daphne and Draco recognized from Malfoy Manor – and had started playing. Hermione look shell-shocked, as the soft hooting of the owl lulled the large dog into a peaceful sleep.

"Come _on_," Daphne whispered, motioning to the trapdoor, which she had managed to hurtle open. Hermione, breaking out of her momentary stupor, nodded at her and the two held hands before jumping through the door, landing with a soft _thud. _Draco looked down into the darkness, and with a nervous gulp, he too followed. Harry continued playing, slowly inching to the trap door. He didn't want to risk Fluffy waking up – it could prove disastrous for him. In a split second, he had stopped playing and had jumped through the door. Poor Fluffy, he would _never_ remember what happened.

Harry felt him land into something cold and squishy. He twisted, but that only made the _thing_ tightened around his waist. Electra hissed from her spot in Harry's sleeve. (She rarely seemed to move it seemed, and was getting more and more reclusive during the nights, as she never got _any _sleep during the busy mornings.)

"_What issss thissss? It smellssss like plant...Devilssss Plant..._" came Electra's voice, drowsy and vaguely annoyed.

It seemed Daphne had realised this as well, because she yelled, "It's Devil's Snare! We read about this in Herbology!"

"Devil's Snare is repulsed by heat!" Hermione recounted. She whipped her wand out, "_Incendio_!"

The greenish plant was slowly burning, and with an eerie squeal, it recoiled. Harry breathed out in relief, and climbed out. Draco sneered at the plant, "Who in the world would place some stupid plant here?"

"If it was the Philosopher's Stone they are protecting, most teachers would have placed some sort of protection on the Stone – enchantments of sorts," Daphne mused out loud, "Fluffy would be Hagrid's and Devil's Snare would, of course, be Professor Sprout. But who's next?"

There was a soft fluttering and Harry turned to them, grimace on his face. "I have a nagging feeling that it is Flitwick's."

Sure enough, the four Slytherins entered a huge room, filled with small keys, each with little wings. They were millions of keys (which at first appeared to be small birds) all which were fluttering around the ceiling. Hermione rushed towards the door and pulled on it, only to find it locked shut. She turned and eyed it, calculatingly. "So we need to find the right key. Professor Flitwick would've taken the correct key and duplicated it, before casting flying charms on all of them...right?"

"That's a possibility," Draco shrugged, "Or he could've just gotten a bunch of keys from somewhere."

"Okay, so we can do this the hard way," Daphne pointed at the lone broomstick, "Or the easy way. But since we are, of course Slytherins, we'll take a gamble – _Accio Original Key_!"

There was a swift zooming noise, and a brass key flew into Daphne's hand. Harry looked on, disbelievingly, as she inserted they key into the hole and turned it. There was a soft click, and the doors swung open. Draco spun around, before walking through the doors. Hermione and Harry followed, though a bit doubtfully.

_That was simple…too simple._

They were then confronted by a group of tall chess pieces, whom refused to let them pass. Draco took one look at them, before smirking maliciously, "I _really_ am going to enjoy this. _Reducto_!" The pawn crumbled to the floor. The others caught on quickly, and soon they were all yelling curses at the top of their breath.

"_Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!"_

The black king fell.

"_Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!"_

White's queen was gone.

"_Incendio! Incendio! Incendio!"_

The rest of the pawns went up in flames.

"_Levicorpus!"_

The white king was lifted upwards.

"_Reducto!"_

The king, still levitated in the air, burst into a thousand fragments.

"_Fire...I sssssmell burn...blood...wheressss the blood?" _Electra popped her head out of his sleeve, yet again. After flicking her tongue, she returned back, dutifully. She wasn't the slightest disturbed by the destruction that surrounded them.

_I picked the right pet, didn't I?_

Harry hissed a few words to her, before turning back to the situation on hand. The door leading to the next chamber had swung open. Harry turned to exit triumphantly, when Draco suddenly let out a loud, painful groan. The green eyed boy spun around, and turned to see Draco clutching his head with one hand, and a piece of granite in the other. The blonde removed his hand, which was now coated in sticky blood.

"Damn it! I forgot about the backlash! Daphne," Harry instructed, glancing worriedly at his best friend, "Get Draco to the Hospital Wing. Say he bumped his head on a wall, or exaggerate a bit – do whatever, just get him fixed, okay?"

The blonde girl was too anxious about Draco to disagree, and so she gave Harry a tentative smile, before ushering him away, "Good luck Potter. You'll do great." Then she disappeared into the next chamber.

Harry sighed and turned to Hermione, who looked like a wreck. "Let's move on, then, shall we?"

Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. The two first years walked into the next room, which was filled with a horrible odour. Harry blinked his eyes, and quickly caught sight of the problem – a large troll was fallen on one side, a huge bump on his forehead. Hermione wrinkled her nose ("Déjà vu – and not in the good way," she groaned) and both of them rushed out of the room. The next chamber was empty, apart from a single table with various bottled potions on it. Harry shrugged and motioned for Hermione to follow him.

When they neared the table, there was a sudden crackle. Hermione spun around and gasped when she saw fire blocking both the entrance and exit. _How do we get out now? _Harry, meanwhile, was looking at the riddle in frustration. He handed the slip to Hermione who went to study it, as usual.

Electra, however, had smelled something (maybe it was the troll or even the potions, whichever, Harry didn't care to find out) and had slithered out again to inspect the table.

"_Electra, what are you doing?"_

She didn't pay attention to him, but coiled around a particular bottle which had considerably less potion than the others. Hermione looked up at Harry's hiss, and turned to where Electra was curled up. She looked a bit shocked. "That's the potion."

Harry was about to ask what potion, when Electra hissed.

"_Thissss sssshould go forward...sssmells like issse."_

"_Thanks Electra," _Harry gulped. He turned to Hermione, "Find the one that takes you back, and try and stall Dumbledore for a while. Tell him that you're trying to save the stone or something."

Tears prickled around Hermione's eyes and she embraced Harry, "O-okay. Just know, Harry, that I will always be there. I'll follow you no matter what road you take. You were one of my first friends, and I won't abandon you. You're a great wizard Harry."

Harry smiled, "And you're a great witch, Hermione." She smiled through watery eyes and reach down to pet Electra.

"_Goodbye Sssslytherin...ssse you sssoon."_

"Electra says goodbye," Harry translated, his own eyes slightly shiny. "I'll see you soon, okay? And Hermione?"

The brunette turned to him, wiping her eyes. Harry grinned, "Have fun destroying the evidence."

"Okay," Hermione said, lips curled up into a small smile, that looked rather suspiciously like a smirk. She gave him one last hug, before drowning the potion through her mouth, and disappearing through the fire. Quickly composing himself, he let Electra back into his shirt. He grabbed the potion Hermione had shown him, and without even thinking, he swallowed what little remained, and stepped through the fire.

The sight that awaited him was both what he expected, and what he didn't.

Clearing his throat, Harry spoke, "Hello Professor Quirrell."

Quirrell stood in front of the mirror, pacing in front of it. He barely moved when Harry entered the room, but at the sound of his voice, spun around and fixed Harry with an intense look, "Hm, Potter. You don't look surprised to see me. Though I am unnerved to see _you _here. Tell me, boy, how much do you know? Tell me the truth and I'll consider keeping you alive."

Harry shifted from foot to foot, awkwardly, "Well I know that you're not fully Quirrell...I know that the Dark Lord is possessing your body. I know that he – the Dark Lord, I mean – cannot die, so he became a spirit. I know you've been drinking and slaying unicorns for him. I know you let the troll in on Halloween, so you can attempt to get past Fluffy – the Cerberus. I know that right now you're trying to get past Dumbledore's enchantment, to get the Sorcerer's Stone...and I know I want to help you."

There was a sudden noise, a dark, rasping laugh, which emitted from the back of the turban, "So the boy wants to help me? Show him to me, Quirinus!"

Quirrell's shaky personality was back again, "But Master –"

"Now!" screamed the voice. Quirrell winced, and slowly un-wrapped his purple turban. He turned around, and instead of the bald head a rather confused Harry had anticipated, he found himself staring straight into the red slit-eyes of Voldemort.

Harry's own green eyes widened, as he quickly bowed to the…er…_face_. Voldemort's ugly expression turned into a very suspicious one. Harry quickly straightened himself and Voldemort watched, "Why is it you want to help me, Potter, after you caused my downfall? Why is it you want to assist mere shadow and vapour? And tell me – why should I trust a pathetic boy like you? WHY?"

"My Lord," Harry began (as he didn't know what else to call him), "Your quest is to rid the world of all the Mudbloods in the. I don't say I agree completely with your goals – but I absolutely detest Muggles. I want a world, much similar to you, that is peaceful, perfect and untainted by the presence of –"

Before Harry could continue, there was a loud hiss. Electra slithered out, spitting, _"Sssso much noissse...firssst the Devil'sss plant, then the chessss piecesssss and potionsss bottlesss and now what issss it!"_

"_Shut up Electra, I'm having a conversation here,"_ Harry hissed, fighting the urge to snap. The snake shot him a glare. Voldemort watched this whole conversation with barely concealed glee.

"_You intrigue me so very much, young Potter,"_ Voldemort said, in Parsletongue. Harry turned, shocked. _"I shall consider your offer – for now. Make no assumptions, you are still my enemy."_

Harry looked a cross between surprised and overjoyed, while Voldemort watched him with an evil, insane expression flickering through his eyes. Electra was watching the conversation with growing curiosity, as she had quickly identified the man with red eyes. (_He isss the saaame assss Massster, _she speculated quietly) Harry smiled, giddily, "_I-I thank you my Lord."_

Voldemort growled, impatiently, _"I assume know how to get past Dumbledore's little contraption?"_

Harry eyed the mirror, carefully, before stepping towards the mirror. He studied it for a minute, before reading the inscription. He turned to Voldemort, and switched to English, "Dumbledore didn't put just _any _mirror. He put the Mirror of Erised in here. The inscription reads, _'I show not your face, but your heart's desire'_. That puts a clue to the enchantment." Voldemort looked impatient, as if he would _Avada Kedavra _Harry if he didn't _hurry up_, consequences be damned.

The Potter stood in front of the mirror and forced his mind to chant: _'I have to save the stone from Voldemort. I have to save the stone from Voldemort.'_ Sure enough, when Harry looked into the mirror, he saw himself winking and something heavy drop into his pocket. Smirking, Harry unveiled the Sorcerer's Stone from his pocket. He tossed it between his hands, grinning darkly.

Voldemort look disgusted and his eyes narrowed. "I should've known. Only one who did not want to use the Stone would be able to retrieve it. NOW! Give me the stone and I will see you are sufficiently rewarded…I will give you your heart's desire. _Give me the stone_ and I will make you me _heir_!"

Harry's smirk deepened, as his hand stretched out to reach Voldemort.

Three things happened at the same time. Voldemort's spirit disappeared, taking the Stone. Quirrell felt to the floor, dead. Harry's scar burned and he fell down, unconscious.

_Harry's smirk deepened, as his hand stretched out to reach Voldemort._

_Harry's smirk deepened, as his hand stretched out to reach Voldemort._

_Harry's smirk deepened, as his hand stretched out to reach Voldemort._

_Harry's smirk deepened, as his hand stretched out to reach Voldemort._

_Harry's smirk deepened, as his hand stretched out to reach Voldemort._

_Harry's smirk deepened, as his hand stretched out to reach Voldemort._

Somewhere else, a prophecy turned and twisted, before shattering into a million pieces.

* * *

"_See you over the summer, then."  
"Hope you have — er — a good holiday," said Hermione_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**T**_he Aftermath of Harry's little expedition was far more than satisfactory.

Harry had been found by Dumbledore, and had spun a lie about saving the Stone from Quirrell. Harry snorted at the very thought of it. After that, all of them had been rushed to Madam Pompfrey, who had fussed over them relentlessly. Draco, Daphne and Hermione were rather excited when Harry had narrated what _really_ happened in the final room, though Draco seemed a bit envious about the whole 'I will make you my heir' issue. When Harry, still slightly giddy from his adventure, assured him that Draco would be his right-hand, his mood cleared up instantly and even Hermione laughed along with Draco's delusions of grandeur.

The House Cup had gone to Slytherin, and once Dumbledore had handed out a horde of points to Daphne, Draco, Hermione and he for trying to save the day (the white bearded man seemed so desperate to get on Harry's good side after the failed attempt to get the stone…perhaps he still assumed Harry was still on the 'Light Side') they were practically celebrities. Even Severus Snape's dislike to Harry had somewhat diminished, but Harry supposed it was because he had just given the Head another thing to gloat about.

Voldemort had been in touch too.

Not for long, though, but somehow he had managed to get past Harry's developing Occulmency shields (thanks to Daphne's '_Mind Arts_' book she gave him for Christmas). Basically, he appeared in Harry's dream, reluctantly thanked him, outlined his rather exuberant plans for the future, threatened him, praised him and left. Needless to say, Draco wouldn't stop pestering him for days, even though Harry, personally, didn't feel all so 'proud' as he had emerged from the conversation. He was more confused – somehow, he was insulted, complimented, promised great things, and threatened in less than five minutes. It was slightly disturbing, to say the least.

Exam results had arrived as well. While Harry and Hermione often tied for first places (and Daphne and Draco second and third) – Harry always winning over the practical section and Hermione, blitzing through the theory – the two had been rewarded most of the teachers' respect, as they had received some of the highest scores for their Charms and Transfiguration tests. McGonagall was thrilled and Harry had a feeling she'd be awarding a lot more points to Slytherin. Four Slytherins at the top of their year was enough to convince McGonagall that the snake house was anything _but _lacking.

Snape, on the other hand, was content to continue boasting, in his own, sullen sort of way.

So, here he was – trunk in one hand and Electra curled around the other. He waved to the Daphne, who had taken the decency to introduce her parents (Elinor and Jacque Greengrass) and her younger sister, Astoria, whom spent most of the time staring at Draco, with a love-sick expression in her eyes. Nevertheless, the Greengrass family seemed to have taken a liking to him, not that he minded. He also smiled at Draco, and gave a small wave towards Narcissa and Lucius, who had been kind enough to extend an invite to come visit for the summer.

He turned back to Vernon, after seeing Hermione disappear through the platform with her mum and dad, who he had also been introduced to. Lydia Granger had been quite insistent that Harry 'pop in' for tea occasionally. He promised to visit them before he left for the Malfoys.

Sneering at the pathetic Muggle in front of him, Harry dropped his trunk in Vernon's beefy hands, and continued to stroke Electra. Vernon scowled, but left to drop them off at the car without a word. Harry nodded curtly, towards him and turned. Before he could follow, however, he was bombarded by Fred and George, who were rather insistent in saying their goodbyes. It seemed that the whole 'son of a Marauder' had made them more comfortable around Harry.

After motioning to their family, they skipped off. Harry nodded at Molly and Arthur Weasley, and scowled openly at both Ron and Percy. When he got to the little girl, though, he gave a small smile and mock-saluted. She blushed prettily, before giving him a hidden smirk in return. He grinned and turned to the wall. In one quick movement, he was back at the cross-section between Platform 9 and 10.

With a deep breath, he turned and stalked off.

It was time to face the magic.

* * *

**(1) **This is _before _Harry finds out Voldemort was from Slytherin, and gets enticed into all those typical Gryffindor beliefs, so he still harbours a connection with snakes.

* * *

**Footnote: **_OMG! 41 pages long! I think that deserves a review, don't you? _

**Edited Note: **_What once was 41 pages, became 46. *sighs* Anyway, as you have noticed, I have changed a considerable amount of things in this chapter. '4th-year-Astoria' is now 'Tanya,' because I wanted to keep close to Canon's timeline. Not only this, but I've made the transitions between personalities somewhat smoother. (Draco isn't as accepting of Hermione as before, etc) I tried to potray an evil Voldemort, which was really hard... because when I see Voldemort, I see a dark (hot, smexy) Tom Riddle playing a manipulative game of politics... *shrugs* Either way, more impatient than previous. Hm...also, Harry doubts the morality of his actions more and I've add a little sub-plot with the horcrux in Harry's mind. Should be more interesting :) Cheers x__  
_


	2. Year 2: Dripping Blood I

**Charming the Snake  
by **_**FashionStarlet**_

**Notes:**I recommend you **don't** read this if you don't want to spoil anything.

_~ Unlike Hermione, Ginny isn't struggling to become a Slytherin. That's because she already has that side of her 'built in'. I'd imagine in the canon version, because of Tom's influence, the Sorting Hat wanted to put her in Slytherin, but Harry being in Gryffindor changed that. This time, though, Harry being in Slytherin only ups her confidence! I tried to make sure it didn't seem like she jumped from being Gryffindor to a sneaky Slytherin. Hope I did that okay._

_~ Harry has taken a liking to Ginny ever since he saw her in Diagon Alley. From Fred and George's conversations with him, he figures out just how devious Ginny can be, and likes her more. He wants to be able to sway her into Slytherin so he can get to know her better, and to cause a rift between the Weasleys._

_~ Same thing with the Hermione-Ginny letter thing. Now, I know some you might say that Hermione isn't dumb enough to forget where Fred and George are staying, but if I remember correctly, the trip to Romania wasn't planned a long time in advance, and if you remember from the last year, Harry's Christmas letter said that they hadn't spoken to the twins since the Halloween incident. And Hermione, having experience with Harry's dislike for Ron Weasley, wouldn't tell him that she has been telling Ginny everything – and I mean everything – about them. Being smart, she would also put a privacy charm on the notes, so nobody can read them apart from Ginny, and she herself can't tell anyone._

_~ Next – the Dobby issue. In this story, it won't be as big of a thing as in J.K. Rowling's version. Neither will Lockhart. They have already been embarrassed too much._

_~ Okay, I'm trying not to diverge from the Canon version so much that my characters are AU, so I'll try and make Hermione's heritage as...realistic as possible. So just pretend this thing was the same in the canon, but Hermione never bothered to investigate it. The same thing goes with the Masons. They – well, I won't spoil it for you._

_~ Hm, okay, to respond to one of my reviewers – Harry and his friends aren't super-powered and amazingly advanced. They're just smarter than everyone else. So, as of now, they aren't practicing 7th year spells, nor will they be until, well, 7th year. Hermione would naturally be at the top and Draco too. Daphne is influenced by Hermione and Draco, and Harry has found a way around the Underage restrictions (at least for the time before their first year) so naturally, it isn't like they are going to come last. Besides, they all got put in Slytherin for how ambitious they are. (Some more than others, of course)_

_~ Okay I've decided to do this in two or three Parts, partially because of how long it's taking me to update. So that means roughly all the way to Chapter 8-9 in J.K. Rowling's Series._

_~ The order of the Basilisk petrifactions will be a lot more frequent and severe. So no Mrs Norris (which is too bad, really)._

**Thanks: **_(I hope I haven't missed anyone. If I have, sorry, but thanks!)_

sabre1492  
danny the beast  
minerdude  
snakekitten  
franv  
Blueeyedprincess100  
viola20  
Fire's Serenade  
Kittenn1011  
Seven Malfoy  
daedalus the architect  
thebard  
Itachi's apprentice  
cseeker  
nightwing27  
Paddy Gurl  
Johnny-on-the-spot  
Memory King  
winter1990  
.SeDuCtIvE  
hedwigthephoenix  
Thecla  
Eh Name what's that  
dragyn42

_**Special thanks to dragyn42 for the summary, it was great. I just vamped it up a bit. :)**_

_Also – THERE IS SWEARING IN THIS BOOK/CHAPTER. Beware._

* * *

**YEAR TWO:  
**_**Dripping Blood – Part I**_

* * *

"_I'll be in my room, making no noise and pretending I'm not there," he said. __  
"Too right, you will." said Uncle Vernon forcefully.  
"The Masons don't know anything about you and it's going to stay that way. "_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**H**_arry knew that somebody was messing with his stuff – even Hermione thought so. He hadn't received one owl, but yet whenever he went to the Grangers' place, Hermione had sworn she had just sent him an owl. Harry didn't doubt her (she _was_ Hermione, and you just _don't_ doubt someone like her). The question was, though, who would want to intercept _his_ letters?

Sighing, he collapsed onto his bed and ran through his holidays so far. Visiting Hermione had become a daily thing, and he was due to go to the Malfoys' in a three days time, anyway. Dudley had come back from Smeltings and had his waist size had doubled. The Dursleys pretty much left him alone now, but truth be told, he could get anything he wanted with a snap of his fingers.

"_Blackmailing Muggles is just too easy,"_ Harry smirked, as his eyes turned to stare at the dark green walls of his room (which still stunk of new paint, mind you). _"I wonder when I became so...evil."_

"_About the time you decccided to give that ssstone to the sssnake man."_ Electra, his familiar, curled on top of his bed, and flicked her tongue lazily, as if she were yawning.

Harry's smirk widened, _"No, I think I've always been dark, I just didn't show it to the Dursleys. I do remember scaring Robert Jones straight out of school, a couple of years ago... Mrs Jones said my eyes were just too 'damn unnatural' and I looked like a serial killer. That was the highlight of my whole year."_

"_Whatssss a sssserial killer? Isssss it ssssome sssort of moussssse sssseller?" _Electra's crimson eyes narrowed as she buried her head under the sheets.

Harry rolled his eyes. _"Is that all you think about – mice? A serial killer is some-one who kills humans. Like, the Dark Lord, for example."_

"_Issss he the other sssspeaker?"_ Harry nodded, and Electra emerged from the sheets, and slithered her way up to him, _"Hassss he sssspoken to you yet?"_

"_No,"_ Harry sighed, combing a hand through his hair, _"Not since we left Hogwarts."_

"_Perhapssssss he issss jussst busssy?"_ Electra cocked her head to one side.

Harry smiled, sadly, _"Maybe."_

With another sigh, he got up and brushed the imaginary dust of his shirt. Smiling softly to Electra, he wandered outside. There was a loud chattering from the lounge, and it seemed that the Dursleys were having a family meeting. Shrugging, Harry walked into the living room, curious to why the Dursleys would be having a meeting. They obviously weren't planning his birthday party. The sight that awaited him made the black-haired boy want to choke with laughter.

Dudley was in a neck-tight black suit, which somehow made him look even fatter. He was bowing to Petunia, who was squealing excitedly, tears pouring down her face. Vernon was grinning, padding Dudley on the back, grunting about how Dudley was a fine young man (He couldn't hear anymore, because he had focused all his attention on not laughing) Harry, personally, thought Dudley looked rather constipated. He started openly sniggering, which forced Vernon's attention to him.

"What are you laughing about, boy?" Vernon snarled. Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'll have you know that the Masons are coming over, and I expect you to –"

Oh, right, the _Masons_. That was all that Vernon had talked about for the past two weeks. Something about a huge dinner to sign some deal. Petunia seemed rather excited about going to Majorca. The original dinner was supposed to be three days later, but since Vernon didn't want '_good people like the Masons_' mixing with '_unnatural little freaks'_, they had rescheduled. Personally, Harry couldn't see how Vernon was a good person (or how his Uncle could call Lucius Malfoy little).

Harry's eyes lips curled, deviously. Before Vernon could say anything, Harry interrupted, "I'll go put on my best outfit, then."

Vernon was turning purple, and Petunia was shooting him hateful looks, while shielding Dudley from his view. Not that he wanted to see that fat pig anyway. Smirking at the well-place insult, he turned and walked out of the room. Truth be told, he would probably just talk to the Masons for a while. No doubt that they would get sick of the Dursleys quickly. Besides, if Vernon lost the deal, he would blame it on Harry. Even though his Uncle wouldn't dare touch him, he could quite easily dilute his food supply.

Dismissing the thought, Harry quickly slipped on a dark green, cuffed top over his dark black jeans. He glanced at his reflection in the long mirror. His hair was slightly tousled, but it gave him a careless look. His skin had become a light tan, as opposed to his original chalk-white tone. His emerald eyes were easily the best feature of his face. The eerie colour of his eyes stood out brightly on his skin, and completed his 'abnormal look'.

Downstairs, Harry could hear the door being opened. Harry waited for fifteen minutes, and when he was sure he could hear Vernon pouring the drinks, Harry decided to make his entrance. Making sure he made no noise, he swept down the stairs into the room. Everybody turned to look at the new arrival, and Harry could easily see the relief on Mrs Mason's face, that he wasn't another fat pig like Dudley and Vernon.

"Good day, Mr Mason, I hope you'll find your refreshments satisfactory," When Mr Mason nodded, Harry smirked to himself, and placed himself in front of Mrs Mason. He picked up her hand and kissed it softly, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Madam Mason, I apologise for not making my presence known earlier."

"Oh, you little charmer!" Mrs Mason giggled, "What is your name, then?"

"It's Harry, Harry Potter," Harry flashed a grin. Mrs Mason was visibly melting. Harry grinned – one down, one more to go. He turned to Mr Mason, and sat on the couch opposite them. Vernon was turning purple, and Petunia's eyes were widening. Dudley was too busy gulping down the chocolates on the table. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled, "I'm Uncle Vernon's nephew. My parents died in a car crash, you see. They were gracious enough to take me in, even though they already had another child to occupy themselves."

Mr Mason actually looked a little impressed, "Well, they must've raised you very well, then. You have splendid manners, lad."

"Thank you, Mr Mason, that is a great compliment, coming from you," Harry blinked, innocently.

Vernon quickly excused himself, and Petunia bustled off to fetch more drinks. Harry leaned back into the couch, sipping something that looked suspiciously like scotch – but Harry personally thought it tasted rather good, so he didn't dare question it. The three talked idly for a while, and there was no doubt that they both enjoyed Harry's company. Mrs Mason would gush over Harry, who would make dashing comments. It was obvious she was one for people who could flirt. (Not that he was – that would be disgusting...it was something called 'sucking up') Mr Mason would question him about everything, and seemed joyous about Harry's advanced understanding of everything.

"So, where does a fine man like you go to school then, lad?" Mr Mason asked. Petunia shot him panicked looks. Harry ignored them.

"I was actually put down in a rather prestigious boarding school. You have to have applied at birth, you see." Harry smirked, "It's very expensive, and you have to travel all the way down to Scotland. It's actually quite a secretive school, but I can't say much apart from the fact that it is a very fine institution. Its name is rather peculiar, though. 'Hogwarts' isn't exactly your ideal boarding name."

Vernon was turning red. (He was like a rainbow) Mr and Mrs Mason exchanged shocked looks, until Mrs Mason exclaimed, "That _is_ peculiar! My cousin's daughter goes to a school in Scotland too! She gave almost the exact same description. Her name is Lavender Brown, have you heard of her?"

_So Brown is a Mudblood...interesting._

"Wow – this is a small world," Harry gave a fake grin, "Lavender is actually in my year group. We're in different houses, though. I've met her a few times, and she seems like a great girl. She's rather brave, isn't she?"

_The best way to go with describing someone you don't know – describe their house traits._

"That's what I always tell Ophelia, here," Mr Mason nodded in agreement, "Though I describe it more like 'reckless'."

Vernon excused himself again, and Petunia rushed to get Dinner on the table. Dudley wasn't paying attention, as usual. Mr and Mrs Mason didn't seem to notice, as they both had their attention on the black-haired boy. No doubt that they thought he was the only person worth talking to. At least his definition of 'sucking up' was far more natural. Smirking inwardly, Harry grinned at Mr Mason's joke. He had this deal in the bag.

Surely enough, by the time Mr Mason left, Vernon was hugging his new cheque to his chest, with a bottle of beer in his other hand. He and Petunia went to their bedroom to er- _celebrate_, but Harry just rolled his eyes and returned to his room.

That was when the real surprise came. Standing in his room, was a green house elf wearing a pillow case. The house-elf was edging away from Electra (who was hissing something about worthless creatures). Harry narrowed his eyes, "_Who_ are you and _what_ are you doing in my room?"

The house elf's head snapped up and he stumbled over his feet, bowing to Harry. "Harry Potter! So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir_…_Such an honour it is…"

The Potter's green orbs narrowed even further. He had heard the name Dobby before...but where? "Well, Dobby, what are you doing in my room?"

"Dobby has come to warn you. Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter; to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later_…Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts_." squeaked the house-elf, in a low voice.

"And why can't I go back to Hogwarts?" snapped Harry. Dobby was really starting to annoy him. Who was _he_ to tell him that he couldn't learn magic?

"There is a plot, Harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year," whispered Dobby, who was starting to shiver at the very thought. "Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!"

"Hey – if it's a plot to make all the Mudbloods go away..." Harry started to joke. When he saw Dobby's eyes widen, he murmured, "It _is _a plot to exterminate the Mudbloods...but who would..."

"Is it the Dark Lord, Dobby?" Harry's asked, urging the elf to continue. Harry would've jumped in joy at the words, 'make all the Mudbloods go away', but his curiosity took over.

The elf shook his head wildly, and its eyes widened, as if he was trying to give Harry a clue. "Dobby is wanting to tell Harry Potter, sir, but his Masters will know...Dobby is a bad, bad elf!" The elf turned and made a motion as if to hit his head on the wall. That was when it hit him.

_...Harry wandered around the halls of Malfoy Manor, attempting to find the bathroom. The place was like a maze! Harry stopped when he saw a green creature hitting his head on the wall, muttering, "Dobby is a bad, bad elf!"..._

"You've been stealing my letters, haven't you?" Harry sneered, accusingly. "You're the Malfoys' house elf! You better not try anything, or I'll tell Lucius what you're doing! Why are you here anyway?"

Dobby looked terrified. He turned from side-to-side, before looking at Harry, lips trembling. He gave a loud 'eep', before he disappeared with a soft 'POP'. Harry stared at the spot that the wretched creature had been in, silently fuming. How dare that – that _house elf_ – try and block his letters! He had no right whatsoever!

"_Draco will be hearing about this!"_ He hissed, lowly, not even noticing that he had switched to Parsletongue.

"_Yesss, I'm ssssure he will...Sssstupid houssssse elf..."_

* * *

"_You've been told to get all Lockhart's books, too!" he said.  
"The new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher must be a fan — bet it's a witch."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone**

_**W**_hen Harry saw the sign that was hung on the front door of Flourish and Blotts, he couldn't help but groan.

**GILDEROY LOCKHART**  
_will be signing copies of his autobiography_  
**MAGICAL ME**  
_today 12:30P. 4:30P.M._

This was just great. When he and Draco had stepped into the Leaky Cauldron that day, he had hoped for a nice, normal day shopping for school things, much like the fun days they had spent in the Malfoy Manor so far. Draco had been even more excited, since they were allowed to visit Knockturn Alley (Harry personally thought that the place was rather shady, but it was no doubt a great place to find Dark Artefacts) but now their whole day would probably be ruined by some fake idiot who was so arrogant, his ego wouldn't fit in the room. At least, that was what he gathered by both Lucius and Narcissa's information.

Harry smirked to himself – if Lockhart was anything like he expected, he could twist this into a way that would benefit him.

Draco turned to him, his gaze slightly fearful, "You know – I don't even want to ask."

Lucius rolled his eyes, but opened the door anyway. There were hit by a horde of maniac fans, attempting to make their way to the front. Harry's smirk widened. This was perfect. Harry cleared his throat, and pulled up his chest, before yelling, "MAKE WAY! MAKE WAY! BOY-WHO-LIVED COMING THROUGH!"

The room fell silent. Draco's jaw dropped, as everybody turned to look at him, gasping. As Lockhart pouted from his lack of fame, the crowd of girls formed a straight line so Harry could go through. Reporters milled around him, yelling out questions. There were numerous flashes of light, and Harry made sure to pose for each one. Once he got to the end, he smirked at the attendant, whose jaw was hanging open. He flicked back his hair, charmingly, before turning to the stack of books.

"Get me three sets of Lockhart books..." Harry snapped, arrogantly. The assistant was still gaping, so Harry gave him his best glare, "Hurry up, will you? I don't have all day!"

The assistant nodded, and bustled off to go somewhere. Lockhart, meanwhile, was striding over to Harry. The blonde man waved his hand, signalling for everyone to be quiet. He clasped Harry on the back, "Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me..." Harry mentally grinned; everything was playing _right_ into his hands.

The green-eyed boy put on his best affronted look and backed away, "Excuse me, but who exactly do you think you are? Some sort of...of..._child molester_?" The presses gasped, and a couple of people began furiously writing.

_It is a good thing Electra isn't here. If she was, she'd probably be hissing her head off. Thankfully, Dobby was to take care of her. I don't think Draco will ever get tired of punishing him for his little stunt._

"My – my _boy_," Lockhart said, blushing furiously, "You don't know what you're saying –"

"I know perfectly well what I'm saying," retorted Harry, as he grabbed the books from the shocked assistant, "I'm saying that you're a downright fraud, and you have no business what-so-ever with me! If you come near me again, I'll have to press charges against you!" Harry sniffed, before then stalked away. Everybody stared after him.

Harry turned and glared, "Well? What are you looking at?"

Everybody started whispering, and some of them turned to Lockhart. Most of them, though, were backing away, disgusted with the man that had molested their precious saviour. Sure, Lockhart had done some important stuff in his day, but none compare to deflecting the Killing Curse and defeating the Dark Lord (by accident, of course) at the age of _one_. Grinning at his achievement, Harry quickly handed Draco his books, waving off the compliments.

"If I may ask, why three stacks of books instead of two? What do you intend to do with the last one?" Lucius asked, eyeing the two stacks in Harry's hand.

Potter only grinned in reply, "You'll see."

Then he stalked over to a gaggle of unmistakable red-heads.

* * *

"_Ginny," said Ron in an undertone to Harry.  
"My sister. She's been talking about you all summer."  
"Yeah, she'll be wanting your autograph, Harry," Fred said with a grin._

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**G**_inny was a rather devious girl. She knew that her, and so did her brothers. She was more Slytherin than all of her brothers combined...except for maybe Fred and George – who were both, currently, amusing themselves with their newest purchases of Zonkos. Ginny didn't know where they got the money from, but she frankly didn't care. She wouldn't admit to any of her siblings – or her parents – but she was _ashamed_.

She was ashamed of how little money her family had, she was ashamed about how prejudiced her family were, she was ashamed of how little tact her brothers had and she was ashamed to admit that she would hand her family in to Voldemort if it meant she would gain a little power and, for once, be acknowledged as somebody other than the _little girl_.

Even if it did mean breaking all boundaries and becoming a Slytherin.

Not that it would be hard to accept. Not really. She had always known that she was a little too sly to become a Gryffindor. She could manipulate her mother into getting her anything, just with a few words. She could get her father to take her anywhere, no matter the cost, just by pulling her puppy-eyed look. And she was definitely not one to rush off to help a person, without thinking of her own gain and safety first. In her world, that was definitely_ not _Slytherin qualities.

There was another thing too, something that had made Ginny cringe. If she told anyone about it – _especially_ her dad – she knew she would probably be condemned for life. The truth was...she didn't like Muggles. No, she _hated_ them. The moment she saw them, she instantly felt that they weren't worth fighting for. That they were..._inferior_. They were mindless, with no potential for the future. They were _weak_...they were _stupid_.

When she met Dean Thomas – a muggleborn – her hatred for them increased a tenfold. He was arrogant, annoying and mediocre. He was a _mudblood_. And just like her brother Ron, he refused to tell her anything, assuming he had more power because he was older. _As if_. Ginny knew that if she wanted, she could hex him off the planet. But no, she made herself think about Hermione's next letter, which succeeded in calming her nerves.

_Hermione_. That was another topic completely. Hermione had accidentally sent a thank-you letter to the Burrow last Christmas, completely forgetting that Fred and George – the recipients of her note – had stayed at Hogwarts that year. Ginny had asked about what was going on at Hogwarts, and though Hermione was reluctant to say so, she gave a brief explanation. Slowly, the girls became closer friends via Owl, and Ginny knew that the brunette was probably the only Muggleborn she wouldn't despise. But then again, according to Hermione, her best friends had a theory that proclaimed she was otherwise.

Ginny had also been surprised when Hermione had mentioned how the Sorting had gone. When Hermione had said that her best friends were a Malfoy, a Greengrass and a Potter, she went from gobsmacked to...well, _beyond_ gobsmacked. Firstly, how did Harry Potter get into Slytherin? Second, _how in hell_ did he make friends with a Malfoy, a Greengrass and a Mudblood?

Vaguely, Ginny did remember seeing a dark haired boy smirk at her in Diagon Alley, last year, and Percy was ranting about some Harry Pitt-guy. Maybe Harry Potter had some hidden Slytherin talent that she wasn't aware about? When Hermione had written to her about their adventures with the Dark Lord – though the Slytherin did take care in preventing others from being able to read it – Ginny had become fascinated by Harry Potter. She didn't know why, but she just felt..._intrigued_ by him.

Her mother, of course, passed it off as a crush. Ginny quickly accepted this excuse, as that way she could ponder about him without her constant yabbering. Sometimes Ginny wondered whether her mother had a constant _Sonorous_ charm placed on her. Her voice really got on Ginny's nerves sometimes, especially when she was trying to concentrate on things that were, by far, more important than attending dinner.

Her mother also had a _disgusting_ crush on Gilderoy Lockhart.

Which was why she just _had _to decide to go to Diagon Alley the day that he was giving out signed autobiographies. Ginny had been annoyed about the decision, but when Harry Potter had arrived and told Lockhart off, the red-head couldn't help but feel that it was worth it. And the expression on her mother's face just added to her amusement. Her mother growled under her breath, and turned to stomp off, with a grinning Fred and George trailing after.

That was when she had a proper look at him. He was walking towards her, a stack of books in each hand. He had windswept hair, as black as midnight, and green eyes that made Ginny melt on the inside. And that smirk – it made Ginny feel hot all over. It was like she was looking straight into the eyes of her fairy-tale prince. Before she could follow her mum back to the line, he was standing right in front of her.

Putting on her best Slytherin mask, she stared straight into his piercing eyes. Something passed between them, and the air changed around Ginny. She felt like they were the only two people in the world. She could see his lips quirk upwards, and he leant down closer. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see him dropping one stack of books into her cauldron, and a bag of Galleons. She held her head higher, as if to say that she didn't need a pity gift. His smile widened.

He leaned down to whisper into her ear, "Every girl needs to make a good impression. Go buy yourself something nice. Consider it a late birthday gift."

"How do you know when my birthday is? You don't even know me! Do you go around giving money to random strangers?" Ginny snapped.

"I know enough about you," He shrugged, before grinning charmingly. "Besides, you're not a stranger to me."

Ginny sighed, realising she was being pretty unfair to him, and said softly, "Thanks...really."

"You're welcome," he leaned back and shot her another smirk, "See you in Slytherin, _Ginevra_."

As Ginny watched him walk away, she couldn't help but recall the queasy feeling she got when he called her Ginevra. She sighed as she looked down into her cauldron. She could still make out the bag of gold he had dropped in there. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she held back a gasp. There, sitting on top of her new books, was a single blood red rose. Ginny picked it up between two fingers, and inspected it. A small smile woke its way onto her face, and she brushed back her orange-tinted hair to look at Harry. He was smirking at her. He gave her a wink, before leaving the shop, with Malfoy Sr. on his tail.

Ginny wandered over to the spot Harry was standing in, and leaned against the bookshelf, trying to organise her thoughts. That was when she saw it. It was sitting, lazily, at her feet and if it had eyes, Ginny knew they would be looking at her innocently. The red-head picked the object up and looked at it curiously. Before she could asses it in more detail, her father beckoned for her to follow him. Ginny looked down at the object one last time, before dropping it in the cauldron. She sniffed the rose again, letting a smile grace her lips, before placing it on top of the book, gently.

Behind the red petals, three words stood out in bright silver: _Tom M. Riddle._

* * *

"_Professor, I wanted to watch my sister being Sorted —"  
"The Sorting Ceremony is over," said Professor McGonagall.  
"Your sister is also in Gryffindor."  
"Oh, good," said Ron._

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**M**_ost of the Sorting was relatively uninteresting, well, in Harry's point of view at least. He spent most of it playing idly with his fork, thinking about the train ride. For some reason, he had thought Dobby would pull off some ridiculous stunt, like trying to block his entrance to the Floo. Thankfully, though, the stupid elf had enough sense to heed Harry's warnings, and he and Draco had a harmless trip to Hogwarts. Well, if you didn't count Daphne (who had gone parading off to France for the holidays) and Hermione hugging them to death.

Draco had seemed rather uncomfortable with Hermione hugging him, he recalled briefly. He had no doubt that they would end up married one day. As if sensing his thoughts, Electra squirmed in his sleeve. Harry smiled to himself and turned his attention to the Sorting. McGonagall was quickly nearing the end of her list.

"Ventualis, Elizabeth." A petite girl with a dark raven hair which framed her porcelain skin walked up to the Sorting Hat.

"Pureblood," Zabini whispered from a few seats across, "I bet you 2 Galleons she'll be in Slytherin."

"No way –" Draco grinned, "She's going to Ravenclaw!"

Hermione giggled, "I would say she'd be going to Hufflepuff, just to annoy you, but I want to save my Galleons thank you very much."

"Well, at least we can all agree Gryffindork is out," Daphne smirked. Sure enough the black-skinned boy was right, Elizabeth got sorted into Slytherin. Zabini grabbed his 2 Galleons from Draco, smirking. Harry rolled his eyes at their immature behaviour and welcomed Elizabeth to the table with a curt nod.

McGonagall pursed her lips and called out the next name, "Weasley, Ginevra."

"No question about that one. She's a Gryffindor, for sure. All Weasleys are in Gryffindor. What do you think, Harry?" Draco asked, eyeing the red-head who bounced up to the front seat. Harry's lips curled at the blonde's proclamation. "You think she'll be as intolerable as Weasley?"

"She's a Slytherin," Harry and Hermione said at the same time. The two turned to each other, momentarily shocked. Questions flooded both of their eyes, but Harry quickly turned his head, not wanting to seem genuinely interested. Whatever Hermione knew, it wouldn't do him good to act any less Slytherin, even if Hermione was his best friend. Sighing, the brunette did the same, only a bit more reluctantly.

Harry watched as Ginny sat with the hat on her head for what seemed like hours. Finally, the hat opened its brim and called out, "SLYTHERIN!"

Several jaws around the hall dropped. Daphne looked slightly surprised, but her cool expression made her look like she had expected it. Hermione and Harry looked on, smug, as a smirking Ginny walked towards the table. Draco had just about fainted. Snape was looking like he had just swallowed a hippogriff. Dumbledore's eyes had lost all sparkle, and McGonagall was too shocked to respond to anything around her. On the Gryffindor table, the twins were looking shocked, Neville was looking betrayed, Percy Weasley was looking annoyed, disapproving and distasteful and Ron Weasley...Harry snickered at his expression. His face was a dark red colour, to match his flaming hair and his mouth was contorted into an expression of both horror and anger. His fists were clenched.

"Oh Merlin," Daphne giggled, notice his gaze, "Look at Weasley! He looks like a tomato!"

"Eurgh, what a disgusting tomato," Hermione stuck out her tongue in mock-disgust. She started to turn to look at the Gryffindor table, but she had to suppress a laugh when she saw Weasley standing up, "This is going to be so interesting."

Draco was still in shock. He didn't even twitch when everybody turned to stare at Ron Weasley. The red-head was looking furious.

"HOW COULD YOU GINNY? HOW COULD YOU BETRAY YOUR FAMILY LIKE THAT? AFTER ALL WE'VE DONE FOR YOU! SORTED INTO SLYTHERIN, ARE YOU MENTAL? YOU'LL BECOME JUST AS MUCH AS A SLIMY AND EVIL AS THE REST OF THEM! HOW COULD YOU GO OVER TO THE DARK SIDE? MUM WILL BE HEARING ABOUT THIS! YOU TRAITOR!"

Ginny stopped, half-way down the stairs, and she turned to regard Ron coolly. Even though her face reflected nothing but the perfect Slytherin mask, Harry could see the fire in her eyes and for some reason he couldn't help but feel a bit – excited?

Shaking his head, Harry watched as Ginny twiddled with a lock of her hair. A cold smirk crossed her face (one that made Hermione shiver) and she turned to stalk over to the Gryffindor table. Confused whispers filled the hall.

Harry said nothing, but instead held back a smirk as he watched the red-head walk to her brother, her hair flying out behind her.

Ginny pulled herself to full height and hissed, "_How dare you Ronald Weasley_! How dare you think you could spoil the feast just because of your silly prejudices! How dare you think you can just stand up and waltz around shouting insults about _my_ house?"

Ron snarled, but Ginny didn't even deter. Instead a sneer pulled across her face, "Slytherins might be 'slimy bastards' but you Gryffindors are no better. You're all brainless, dumb, reckless and just plain stupid. (Here, Ginny paused, mockingly?) Oh, and Ronald, what happened to 'Gryffindor Bravery', huh? Threatening to call Mother isn't exactly brave." Percy's eyes narrowed. Snape was looking delighted.

"YOU LITTLE SNAKE!" Ron yelled, face deepening even more. "YOU'RE JUST AS BAD AS THE REST OF THEM! YOU ONLY WANT TO BE IN SLYTHERIN SO YOU CAN BE THEIR LITTLE SLUT!"

Gasps went around the hall, and the twins were growling under their breath. Percy was looking satisfied (much to Harry's disgust) but still appalled at Ron's language. Ginny's sneer deepened, "We all know what you think about me, but do you know what I think about you?"

Ginny paused, "Well, Ron Weasley. I think you are a vile, insolent, irresponsible, dim-witted, daft, infuriating, irritating, brainless, repulsive, insignificant, inferior, mediocre nuisance with little to no ideals in life! _I. Think. You. Are. Pathetic._"

Then she slapped him.

Harry felt oddly satisfied as he watched her hand fly to his cheek. A sharp noise filled the room, and echoed across the room. As her hand left his cheek, the burning red hand-print was more than slightly visible. Then, with another cold smirk, she sauntered over to the Slytherin table, and slid into the seat next to Elizabeth Ventualis.

McGonagall had regained her senses and was yelling for order. Dumbledore was still looking oddly at Ginny, and Snape was looking very satisfied. Harry was hoping for more of a reaction, but the expression on Weasley's face was enough to make him grin.

"Looks like you've got Professor Snape's approval," Hermione joked. Ginny looked up, appreciatively, before looking back down at her lap, emotions flickering through her chocolate orbs. Even though it looked like she loathed Ron, Harry could see small tears prickling from the corner of her eyes.

Harry turned his green-eyed gaze on Ginny, and his deep red lips curled up in a smirk. Ginny looked up and blushed slightly at the intensity of the look. Harry ran a hand through his hair, "It's good to see you where you belong, Ginevra."

"Yeah – I know," she breathed, before blushing again. She attempted to look as cool as possible as she turned to Draco, who was eyeing her carefully. "I know our families have some crazed blood feud going on, but I'm more than willing to let it slide, if you are."

Draco stared at her hand for a few minutes, before shaking it and saying curtly, "I suppose I can make another exception to the blood feud. It's good to see at least one Weasley has their sanity."

The red-head nodded, "Er- Thanks, I think."

Hermione giggled, "Trust me, Ginny, Draco never gives out compliments, so if I were you I'd take and leave before he can insult you." Draco scowled, unintentionally proving her point. Daphne watched the scenario with careful eyes.

Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Ginny, and said softly, "What did you buy yourself?"

Ginny's blush disappeared and she suddenly looked alert. Harry realised that this wasn't the ideal way to make a good impression. He held his hands up, palms facing the red-head. "Chill, I was just curious."

"Oh, right," Ginny's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, "I suppose I owe you that much. I bought a wand, if you must know. I saved up the rest for my later years in Hogwarts."

"Smart," Harry smirked. This year would be very interesting, to say the least.

Ginny smiled.

* * *

"_She's — she's sent me a Howler," said Ron faintly.  
"You'd better open it, Ron," said Neville in a timid whisper. "It'll be worse if you don't. My gran sent me one once, and I ignored it and" — he gulped —"it was horrible."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**G**_inny had settled in quite well. She was doing great in her classes, and was always upholding the Slytherin reputation. (Thanks to the fact that Weasley could never shut his gob) Even Snape had taken a liking to her. Well, if you call ignoring her for majority of the lessons 'liking'. She and Elizabeth got on quite well, and the red-head had a very close friendship with Hermione. At least, that was what Harry had observed for the past four days. It was rather strange though, that Hermione seemed so at ease with Ginny, even more so than Daphne, who was a social-butterfly. It perplexed him to end, but most of the time he set his thoughts aside to focus on reality.

"So what do you think?" Draco whispered, interrupting Harry's trail of thought. "About Red I mean?"

Daphne shot a quick look at 'Red' – or in other words, Ginny – who was chatting amiably with Hermione. The blonde twirled a lock of hair around her finger, before leaning in towards Draco, "I think she's okay – but she confuses me. The way she looks at me – it's like she knows everything about us! And Hermione isn't one to socialize to people she's never met before, but yet she and Hermione act like they're best friends. _Hell_, Hermione even ditched us for her! She doesn't even sit with us in classes!"

That was true. Daphne had become quite annoyed, since Hermione never seemed to hang out with them anymore. To be honest, Harry was a bit goaded by it as well. A whole year of friendship was gone down the drain. Harry had no problem with Ginny Weasley, but the fact that Hermione hardly ever spoke to them, was getting on his nerves. Was she just being over-helpful or did she think that Ginny would be a better friend than them? Was she purposely avoiding them because she thought their actions to help the Dark Lord were wrong?

Draco was the most affected by Hermione's indirect refusal to talk with them. He had gone quite sour when Daphne mentioned the fact that Hermione was avoiding them, and he said bitterly, "Apparently we're not good enough for her. She just wants to suck up to Red because she slapped Weasley on the first day. I regret even accepting Red's stinking apology."

The blonde girl ignored him, but turned to Harry, her voice still low, "You've noticed it too, haven't you, Harry? I see how you get that thoughtful look on your face when you watch them talk."

"I know," Harry admitted, "It's just – when Gin...fine, _Red_, watches us, it's like she is assessing our moves. Like she knows that we're up to something, that we're waiting for – _you know_. And the only way that could happen is if..." Harry trailed off, looking at the sky.

"No way!" Draco exclaimed. People turned to him, confused, but Draco waited until they lost interest, before speaking in a hushed voice. "How could she? We trusted her – and she goes off and tells Red every one of our secrets! Harry, we have to stop this! They'll go and tell Dumbledore next! You know what will happen then!"

Harry looked at him, dubiously, but Daphne nodded, a bit sadly, "Draco has a point, Harry. I hate to think that Hermione has betrayed us – but if she has, we're in danger. We've got to do something. Even if Hermione hasn't told Red about us..." The Greengrass shot Harry a meaningful look.

Harry sighed, and turned back to where the two Slytherins were shooting weird glances at him. The black haired boy turned away, and subtly edged closer to them so that he could hear what they were saying. Daphne noticed this and gave him a small nod, accompanied by her classic smirk. Before Harry could do so much as roll his eyes, there was loud swooping noise, and a defected looking owl hopped across the table and dropped a red envelope in front of Ginny.

Harry recognized it immediately. It was a Howler.

Ginny groaned, as she picked up the letter. She was speaking louder now, and Harry could easily hear what she was saying. She held the envelope with two fingers and looked at it, disgusted, "I should've known Mother would send me a Howler. I didn't think it would take her this long though."

"Well, you know Molly," Hermione laughed. Harry's eyes narrowed. '_You _know_ Molly_?' – What was that about? Hermione had never been introduced to Molly Weasley – so how would she know how the elder Weasley would react? Something was definitely not right.

Ginny gritted her teeth, "Here goes nothing."

She ripped open the seal. The reaction was instant. A loud, womanly voice was shouted at the top of her voice, "GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!"

Harry cringed as he covered his ears. Several plates around him trembled.

"-SORTED INTO SLYTHERIN, HONESTLY! YOU ARE A DISGRACE TO THE FAMILY! YOUR FATHER AND I ARE IFNURIATED IN YOU! I THOUGHT YOU KNEW BETTER THAN THAT!"

Ginny flinched at the noise and glared at the Howler. Electra retreated to the very top of Harry's shoulder and started to hiss insults under her breath.

"-AND WHEN RON SENT ME THAT LETTER! HOW DARE YOU INSULT YOUR OWN BROTHER! YOU BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK GINEVRA, BECAUSE ONE MORE TOE OUT OF LINE AND YOU WILL BE DISOWNED! YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

The red envelope went up in ashes, and Ginny fled from the room, face red. Hermione glared at everyone, who was looking on (including a smug Ron and Percy), before sprinting after the red-head girl. Harry turned to see both Draco and Daphne, who were wincing. They both looked slightly upset, and Draco was looking a lot more subdued.

"I-I think," Harry managed to croak out, "We should probably just wait before we decide to have any confrontations."

Daphne nodded quickly, cheeks pink, "Yes, I think that would be the best option."

* * *

"_Me," he said, pointing at it and winking as well. "Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of __Witch Weekly__'s Most Charming Smile Award but I don't talk about that. I didn't get rid of the Bandon Banshee by __smiling __at her!"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**O**_ver the last few days, Lockhart had attempted to corner him exactly 10 times. Colin Creevey – the daft Gryffindor – was a little more daring and had tried to cross his path over 18 times. Harry was frankly getting very peeved. After putting on a very threatening display, both of them had scampered off to their little holes, but Harry knew that it wouldn't be long until the badgering (and occasionally, stalking) would start up again. Unfortunately, that day came only too soon.

Harry put his head in his hands, desperately trying to block the annoying noise of Lockhart. Harry turned his head slightly, to see a starry-eyed Hermione sitting next to Millicent Bulstrode. Snorting into his hand, Harry turned his gaze to Daphne who was sneering at Gilderoy him and Draco who was fuming silently. (This was partially because they still hadn't approached Hermione)

Lockhart had stopped talking, apparently he had told a joke. He looked around to the combined class of Ravenclaws and Slytherins, but everyone just shot him an irritated look, apart from Hermione, who was gazing at him dreamily. Lockhart coughed, aware of his rather unenthusiastic audience, "Yes, well. I see you've bought my books – well done."

Draco took that moment to interrupt, "Of course we have – it was on the booklist you twit. We wouldn't have bought them if _you _hadn't assigned them. Seriously, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were just trying to get money. (Draco paused, mockingly) Wait, I _don't_ know better."

Blaise Zabini snickered quietly and Theodore Nott padded Draco on the back. Hermione shot them all a dark glare and Lockhart faltered, his cheeks darkening, "Eh-hem. I thought we'd start off with a little quiz, just to see how much you know."

"More than you," Harry muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear. Some of the Ravenclaws murmured in agreement (the boys at least) and Lockhart looked even more put out.

He tried to ignore the rude comments and ploughed on, "Er – um, this quiz will test how well you've read the books –"

Delta Moon – one of the Ravenclaws who looked annoyed – put her hand up, "Professor Lockhart, I can't help but adding, that in some of your books the theories of killing the monsters are completely wrong. According to Mirk Belby, you can't kill a Yeti by setting fire to its cave. It's a completely preposterous tale, as you can only kill one by –"

"Yes, Miss...Moon, that was a very nice question," Lockhart rushed to hand the test papers out, looking noticeably more flustered, "You have thirty minutes...you can start – now!"

Harry rolled his eyes, and turned his gaze to the parchment that lay in front of him. Dipping his quill into a bottle of green ink, Harry signed his name with flourish. Then he turned to the first question and almost fell of his chair in disbelief.

_**1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favourite colour?  
**__Green and Silver._

_**2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?  
**__He wants to take over the world with his ridiculously shiny teeth and hair._

_**3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?  
**__Being stupid, annoying, dumb and idiotic without even trying._

_**4. When did Gilderoy Lockhart first rise to fame?  
**__When he started to get plastic surgery._

_**5. What brand of hair product does Gilderoy Lockhart use?  
**__"Blonde Dye for Dummies!"_

_**6. Who are Gilderoy Lockhart's best friends and companions?  
**__His mirror._

Several minutes ticked past and Harry started to grow more and more annoyed with the piece of paper. The more frustrated Harry got, the ruder his answers would get. Honestly, did this man have no sense of humility? He almost sighed in relief as he rushed to finish the last two questions.

_**53. How many ladies has Gilderoy Lockhart courted?  
**__HE IS GAY._

_**54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?  
**__I don't know, but tell me when he dies so I can BLOODY CELEBRATE._

There was a shrill ring and Lockhart clapped his hands, "Good job, everyone! Miss Moon, can you please collect the Ravenclaw tests...and...Harry, my boy, collect the Slytherin ones for me, will you?"

Harry was thoroughly annoyed by now. "Why should I? You do it. It's called an _Accio_ charm; show everyone it, will you?"

"Heh, heh," Lockhart coughed again. Everyone's attention turned to the nervous Professor, who squirmed. "Yes well, perhaps later."

Daphne – who had been suspiciously quiet – called out, "What, Professor, are you too scared?"

"No – i-it's just –"

"I thought you were supposed to be a genius, Professor," Parkinson cut in, snidely. She wrinkled her pug-face up and attempted to look innocent. Hermione rolled her eyes and quickly handed Lockhart the tests. Lockhart quickly flipped through them, his eyes bugging out as he passed the Slytherins'.

"Come on – how are you supposed to teach us DADA if you can't do the _Accio _charm?" Blaise snickered.

Several Ravenclaw boys yelled out in agreement. Lockhart turned red, "Yes- yes...er...class dismissed early, everyone out!"

Theodore booed, but exited the room anyway. Harry, personally, was relieved and he quickly moved to leave, but Lockhart stood up and motioned for him to wait. Harry turned to Draco and Daphne, pleadingly, but the two just smirked and slipped through the door. The green-eyed boy rolled his eyes, as he watched Hermione walk out of the door, wrapping her hands around herself, self-consciously.

As soon as the last person had closed the door, Lockhart smiled at Harry. "I need to talk to you about your test. I know it must be hard on you, being so young and seeking fame. Still, there is no need to discriminate others in –"

"Oh shut up," Harry moaned. He couldn't believe his nerves. He was already in a bad mood. "I'm a Slytherin, discriminating people is what I do best. Besides, I feel no remorse in informing you that you are the worst Defence teacher in the world – and that if you try and approach me again – I will contact the press." Lockhart looked taken aback.

"Remember this _Gilly_ – I am more famous then you by a mile," Harry sneered, before opening the door. Before he could leave, though, he noticed a small cage rumbling. With an evil glint in his eyes, he pointed his wand at the cage and shot off an _Alohomora_ at it, before slamming the door shut.

If anyone had bothered to listen, they would've noticed the light silver shield that covered the Defence Room, where Lockhart was screaming his head off.

If anyone had bothered to remove the charm around the room, maybe Lockhart wouldn't have spent 3 weeks in St Mungo's recovering, and maybe Snape wouldn't have taken his classes temporarily, and _maybe_ Gryffindor wouldn't have lost so many points.

But no one did, and for Harry, that was perfectly fine.

* * *

_"But I booked the field!" said Wood, positively spitting with rage. "I booked it!"  
"Ah," said Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape."  
" __'I, Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker'. __"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**A**_t first Draco had wanted to bribe Flint – a burly 7th year – into letting him onto the Quidditch team, but Harry managed to convince him other-wise. Of course, he wouldn't object to Slytherin getting 5 _Nimbus 2001_s (since, strictly speaking Draco and he had their own brooms), so Draco had finally decided that if he did manage to get onto the team – which of course he did – he would reveal his little 'present' for the Slytherin team.

Harry grinned to himself, as he slung his Quidditch robes onto his shoulders. He had managed to snag the Seeker position with a burst of excellence, and Flint had been bursting with excitement for the following three days. Even Snape had acted considerably lighter during Potions. Still smiling, Harry exited his dorm and caught up with Draco, who was standing with the rest of the Quidditch Team, who were looking noticeably more excited.

"Okay Team, this is our first practice of the year – Professor Snape has given us permission to use the field," Flint shot everyone a nasty smile, "Even though Wood and his puny Gryffindors are already there. You know what that means don't you?"

Harry smirked, "It means we're going to crush them." Draco snickered at his friend's blunt tone.

Flint nodded, mirroring Harry's expression, "To right we are. They won't know what hit them, the filthy scum. There is no way any of the teams can score up to our grade. We've got a brand new Seeker and Chaser, Potter and Malfoy, and a load of classy brooms – so if I see any goofing around..." – He threw everyone a threatening look – "Now, Team, _march_! Hurry up or I'll have you hung by your boots in Filch's office!"

Harry bit back a groan, but followed Flint towards the Pitch, carefully concealed behind a bunch of burly fifth and sixth years. He shivered slightly as he exited the castle, a large blast of cold morning air hitting his face. He quickly shook the feeling off – after receiving a weird look from his blonde mate – and paid more attention to his surroundings. Wood was hunched over, glaring at a timid Gryffindor Harry unfortunately recognized as Creevey.

"_What are you doing here? Come to spy on us? Well I'll tell you-"_

Creevey was looking decidedly scared. He trembled under the gaze of the hysterical Quidditch Captain.

"_I-I- just wanted to see a real Quidditch game...I-I'm s-sorry..."_

A dark skinned girl holding a _Cleansweep 7_ rolled her eyes, flicking her dark hair out of her eyes, annoyed.

"_He's a Gryffindor, Oliver, why would he want to spy on us?"_

The Weasley twins were nudging each other, and for a split second, Harry caught their eye. He grinned and gave them a sly wink.

"_And the Slytherins don't need a spy, Oliver."_

"_What makes you say that?"_

"_Because, they're here in person..."_

Harry bit back a smile as he watched all the eyes turn to their team, who were by now gliding over to them. Wood looked shocked for a second, before his face turned stormy. He marched over to them and gave Flint what he hoped was an evil look. To Harry, it looked more like the look you saw on a puppy when you _Avada Kedavra_ someone.

"But I booked the field!" yelled Wood. "I booked it!"

"Ah," tutted Flint. "But I've got a specially signed note here from Professor Snape."

Wood glared and snatched the note out of his hands. With an angry voice he read out, "...**I, ****Professor S. Snape, give the Slytherin team permission to practice today on the Quidditch field owing to the need to train their new Seeker and Chaser**...You've got a new Seeker and Chaser? Where?"

This was only getting better. Harry watched as Draco strode forward, and Harry soon followed, shooting them all nasty grins. Wood's jaw dropped and Harry sneered, "Why, why, isn't it the little widdle Gryffindors? Why don't you come see what Draco's Father bought the Slytherin team, hm?"

Flint smirked in approval and flashed his dark broom in Wood's face, "Seven _Nimbus 2001_s, marvellous aren't they?"

"Well-" sniffed Wood, ignoring the envious looks on Fred and George's faces. "You can just-"

"You got on the team?" interrupted a feminine voice that Harry recognized only too well. Sure enough, when he turned around, he was looking straight into the face of Hermione Granger.

"So you've decided to talk to us now?" Draco scorned, rudely. Harry shot him a warning look, but the blonde didn't notice.

Hermione looked up in shock, "What do you mean, Draco?"

"I think you know perfectly well what I mean, _Granger_," Draco sneered, "Don't think we haven't noticed how you've been ignoring us, skipping off with Red. Decided to ditch us for some red-headed, first-year loser, did you? What, did she finally find out that you were nothing more than a filthy _mudblood_?"

There were several gasps from the Gryffindor team, and Hermione turned to Draco, eyes watering, "I was only trying to help her – she's been going through a tough time and-"

"Oh, yes! 'Let's go tell her all my best friend's secrets and then ditch them so we can play tea-party!'" Draco mocked, "Well, forget it Mudblood, you're not worth our time!"

Hermione couldn't take it anymore, tears poured out of her eyes as she fled into the castle, her hair in a frizz. Harry sighed and turned to Draco, "Draco! I know she deserved a talking-to, but don't you think that was a bit too harsh?"

"No," Draco glowered. Harry raised an eyebrow and Draco muttered under his breath, "I lost control of my temper. Sorry, but she deserved it."

"Maybe, but perhaps nothing as harsh as that. We'll talk to her later, okay? Let her cool done for a few days." Harry resolved, before turning to Flint who was shielding them from the hearing distance of the Gryffindors. Harry shot him a thankful glance. Flint just shrugged, before adopting his dark look again.

"That's enough chattering! Three laps of the pitch – NOW!"

* * *

_Harry strained his ears.  
Distantly, from the floor above, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice:  
"__…I smell blood…I SMELL BLOOD__!"  
His stomach lurched —"It's going to kill someone!"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

"_**G**_uys, we've got to stop putting this off," Daphne sighed, running a hand through her hair, "We decided we'd talk to Hermione weeks ago!"

"We haven't even gotten a chance, Daph, and you know that," Draco murmured, as he stared at the orange pumpkins that were hung around the room, "If I had known she'd lock herself up everyday...I-"

"It's okay, Draco, you already said you regretted it," Daphne gave him a tentative smile, before turning to where Harry was idly playing with his fork, "Where do you think she's going, Harry? I mean, she hasn't even come for the Halloween Feast yet!"

"Well, I-" Harry began, but before he could get another word in, he heard hissing – from the walls. Something was moving...something big...something _alive_.

"_Rip...tear...kill..."_

Harry's blood ran cold, as he stood up, abruptly. Daphne looked at him, confused, but before he could contemplate what was happening, he hurried out of the Great Hall. Draco and Daphne followed him, worry evident on their faces.

"Harry, what's going on?" Draco hissed under his breath.

Harry shot him a glare, clearly telling him to shut the hell up. Then he turned around the corridor and strained his ears. He might be going paranoid, but he could've sworn he had heard a snake.

"_...soo hungry...for so long..."_

Harry froze; he followed the voice, up the stairs. Draco and Daphne sprinted after him.

"There's a voice," he muttered, his pace quickening, "in the walls. I could've sworn it was a snake. It's heading for something – _somebody_."

Harry turned around, hair whipping, "It wants to _kill_."

Daphne's face paled and Draco mouth turned downwards. "Where's it going?"

"I don-" Harry stopped again.

"_...kill...time to kill..."_

Harry's step quickened as he scrambled up the staircase.

"_...I smell blood...I SMELL BLOOD!"_

His breath caught in his throat. At the top of the staircase was a corridor, which was covered in blood. It trailed across the dark hallway and into a white room. He felt the bitter smell of the blood hit his nose, and with a cautious face, he followed the trail into the room. The sight that awaited him was none to pleasing. On the wall, written in the same blood were the words:

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.  
ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE._

And below that was the worst sight of all. There – pale-faced and fist-clenched – was the rigid body of none other than Hermione.

* * *

**Footnote: **_Ahaha! I'm so evil! Leaving you guys on a cliff-hanger! Anyway, sorry for the wait, but school started up this week and I was being driven to 'get the holiday drive out of me'. So, yeah, being drilled in advanced algebra doesn't really help to give you any inspiration. Anyway, now is the time to go up and read those notes, in case you haven't. Review!_

**Poll:**_Who do you want to side with Harry/Voldemort, and who do you want to be Neutral?_


	3. Year 2: Dripping Blood II

**Charming the Snake  
by **_**FashionStarlet**_

**Note: **There will be a few 'fixing up' issues in this chapter, just to smooth out all the technical errors. Thanks to dragyn42 for pointing them out. Long wait, I know. But I was working on my Twilight story, "Blue Moon". Check it out if you are a Twi-Fan!

**Thanks:**

Seven Malfoy  
dragyn42  
Memory King  
DuShuZhi  
DukeBrymin  
Sage Lightning  
verox29  
Itachi's aprentice  
kama674  
DaRkNeSs is SeDuCtIvE  
bigmommak  
-tzzz-  
Thecla  
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* * *

**YEAR TWO:  
**_**Dripping Blood II**_

* * *

_Mrs. Weasley was marching across the yard, scattering chickens, and for a short, plump, kind-faced woman, it was remarkable how much she looked like a saber-toothed tiger._

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**W**_hen Molly Weasley had sent her daughter of for her first year at Hogwarts, she had expected a lot of things to go wrong. She'd expected Ginny to get teased, to get shunned by her brothers, to not make as many friends, to become home-sick...but she certainly hadn't expected her to get sorted into Slytherin.

_Slytherin_ – when Molly had read those dreadful words, she couldn't think properly. Her precious Ginny was in Slytherin? How could she get into that horrible house? What would Arthur think? Those Slytherins were going to taint her only daughter. Even worse – it seemed that Ginny had already over-stepped her boundaries! Insulting her brother, who was trying to help her get re-sorted! What was wrong with her?

So Molly did the first thing that came to her mind – she sent a Howler.

Now, as she sat on her couch with her head in her hands, she knew that she sorely regretted it. She knew Ginny must have been having a hard time fitting in, and the Howler would've probably only made it worse. Molly knew that her actions would probably set Ginny against her – making her vulnerable to any Slytherin deceptions.

Despite what people said, Molly did love her children dearly, and to think that she possibly put off one of them, it made her sob. Slowly getting to her feet, Molly reviewed her life with Ginny. What could've possibly made her get into Slytherin – a choice Molly knew that Ginny would regret? (Who wouldn't? It was an awful house, filled with dark practices – and to think _Harry Potter_ got in there!)

Now that Molly looked back – Ginny always had seemed rather irritated when Arthur proposed trips to various Muggle places. Molly had always passed it off as Arthur's willingness to spend so much money on Muggle things, but perhaps it was a bit more?

There _had_ been an incident when a boy tried to force Ginny into kissing him (in front of his friends), but Molly had always thought that Ginny had pushed them away politely. She came back with her face red, so she had imagined that Ginny had been quite flattered, but had refused them. But maybe she had –

_No_. Molly shook her head. Ginny was a nice girl, always sweet and caring. She wouldn't do such things. Ginny deserved better. Molly decided that as soon as her daughter came home, she would surprise Ginny by giving her an early birthday present. Ginny would be so happy, she would forget all about Molly's mistake, and she would be able to make amends and start over.

Yes, she would head straight to Headmaster Dumbledore's office to see to it that Ginny got her present. She would be ever so delighted. Molly had already decided on her present, and once she set her mind, there was no changing it.

Ginevra Molly Weasley was getting a re-sorting.

* * *

"_Potter and his friends may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it.  
"But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

"_**M**_r Potter, Mr Malfoy, Miss Greengrass," Dumbledore addressed them all with a curt nod, "Can you please explain what you were doing on the 31st of October, during the Halloween Feast?"

Snape glared at the Headmaster, from where he was sitting, "Are you somehow implying that _my_ students have something to do with the petrifaction of Granger?"

"No, not at all," Dumbledore said, reaching towards the box of lemon drops on his desk, "I simply thought it prudent to get as much information as possible."

"Don't deny it, Severus," McGonagall hissed, next to Snape. "The situation we found them is highly suspicious."

"I still do not know why you are here, out of all reasons," Snape bit out, "What is to you where _my _students have been?"

McGonagall replied, primly, "I am, of course, the Deputy Headmistress."

Dumbledore ignore them, his face turning serious again, and he turned to look straight into Harry's green orbs, "Now, I will ask again. Mr Potter, where were you when Miss Granger was petrified?"

"We were," Harry began, trying to keep his cool, "At the Halloween Feast. Did you not notice our presence? I assure you, I have enough alibis to confirm my presence."

"Yes, yes, of course," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling merrily, "But how did you come across Miss Granger?"

"Electra," Harry lied smoothly. Beside him, Daphne and Draco nodded, as if Harry hadn't just spun the story off the top of his head. "She took off without any warning, and Daphne, Draco and I followed her to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. We followed the trail of blood to Hermione's body."

"Electra...?" McGonagall's lips thinned, "I wasn't aware there were any students by the name of Electra, Mr Potter."

"Of course there isn't," Draco snorted, unable to contain his facade. McGonagall shot him a look, but Dumbledore's twinkles only came back in full force. "Electra is Harry's familiar."

If any of the occupants in the room was shocked, nobody showed it. Snape just looked at Harry, mildly, while McGonagall was stilling looking at Harry suspiciously. Dumbledore – as per usual – was sucking on a lemon drop and 'twinkling'. McGonagall finally broke the silence, "A 12-year old cannot have a familiar, Mr Potter. It simply _isn't_ possible."

"Yes, I would like to know where you have been housing this creature," Snape sniffed, "If you are raising a baby dragon in _my_ dungeons..."

"Oh, not to worry Professor," Daphne smiled charmingly, "I know you'll love Electra."

Harry smirked, as he felt a soft tug on his sleeve, "Yes – I'm sure you will. Perhaps I'll show her to you another day. I trust this meeting is over?"

McGonagall opened her mouth to protest, but Dumbledore just waved his hand, his face contorting into a thoughtful expression. After the three students had left, McGonagall huffed and turned to Snape, as if she expected him to make some sort of comment. When nothing happened, she shot a glare at Dumbledore – who wasn't even fazed – and stalked off, gracefully. Snape shot one last glance at Dumbledore, before reluctantly following after the Deputy Headmistress.

Dumbledore sighed, and decided to head to his own quarters, but before he could even move an inch, the fireplace turned green and a plump woman stuck her head through the flames. She looked annoyed. "Albus, I demand that my daughter should have a re-sorting!"

Dumbledore groaned. This was the cherry on top of a horribly tiring day. How was he to explain to the temperamental Weasley the rules of the Sorting Hat?

_This was going to be a long night._

* * *

_Harry recognized her as the Ravenclaw they'd accidentally asked for directions to the Slytherin common room. And on the bed next to her was —  
"__Hermione__!" Ron groaned.  
Hermione lay utterly still, her eyes open and glassy._

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

"_**I**_'m sorry Hermione. I'm so, so sorry I called you a Mudblood," Draco buried his head into Hermione's chest, "You're not. I'm so sorry, Hermione. I lost my temper and I thought...It was my entire fault! Please forgive me."

Harry rubbed his eyes, and he touched Hermione's forehead, sadly. Daphne was on the verge of choking back tears. Harry put a hand on Draco's shoulder, slowly prying the distraught blonde away from their petrified friend. Truthfully, Harry was getting slightly anxious as well. Hermione had stayed in the hospital for a month, her face like stone. They visited her every chance they got and Draco would often break down during the visits. Even behind his Slytherin nature, he still cared about his friends, especially Hermione. (Harry suspected it was a beginning of a crush, but when Draco and Hermione were involved...well...)

"Come on Draco, we've got a Quidditch game tomorrow," Harry murmured, not taking his eyes of Hermione's lifeless brown ones.

Draco shook his hand off, "I don't care about Quidditch. Trying out for the team was a stupid idea anyway. Tell Flint I quit. Daphne can play Chaser."

"No," Daphne shook her head, "Draco, you've beat yourself up enough! You weren't the one who petrified Hermione, were you? We don't even know what she was doing in the bathroom."

Harry sighed, and turned his back on Daphne's counselling session. He traced his finger around Hermione's fist, when he spied something white. Draco, who was watching him, had apparently seen it too, because he gently pried it from Hermione's hand. Before they could open it, the doors to the Hospital Wing swung open, revealing McGonagall and Fillius Flitwick.

"This has got to stop, Fillius!" McGonagall cried, "Seven attacks already! In one month – how can any monster do such a thing to school children?"

"Slytherin's beast, Minerva," Fillius sighed, "You know that we should never underestimate Slytherin. It happened before, when you undertook your Transfiguration Apprenticeship under Albus. 50 years ago, my dear, let us only hope that whatever killed Myrtle doesn't do any more heinous deeds."

"And hopefully Cornelius won't see it fit to arrest Reubues for a crime he didn't commit." McGonagall agreed, "Though I do wonder how she died in a toilet. Funny, Miss Granger was found in the same toilet. Perhaps it was a coincidence. I do hope Pomona finishes up with those Mandrakes soon. I fear that if Miss Granger, Miss Clearwater, Mr Creevey, Miss Edgecombe, Mr Wood, Miss Patil and Miss Brown will not be able to wake if left for too long."

"Yes, it is such a pity that Gryffindor's Keeper has been petrified. And Mr Wood was Captain too. The Gryffindor Team must not be taking that too well. I trust you have found a replacement?" Flitwick stroked his chin, thoughtfully.

McGonagall's eyes misted over, before she nodded curtly, "Yes. Mr Weasley was quite enthusiastic to be on the Gryffindor Team, though I stressed it was strictly temporary. Hopefully Wood will make a quick recovery, I don't know how much longer my students can handle the growing pressure of their Captain's disappearance."

Slowly the voices drifted away, and as Harry, Daphne and Draco exchanged startled looks, the piece of parchment slowly fell into Draco's pockets, forgotten.

* * *

"_So, Harry," said Lockhart, while Hermione folded the note with fumbling fingers and slipped it into her bag. "Tomorrow's the first Quidditch match of the season, I believe? Gryffindor against Slytherin, is it not? I hear you're a useful player."_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**W**_hile the St Mungo's Healing Staff were going mental trying to bring Lockhart back to full recovery, Harry James Potter and his best friend, Draco Lucius Malfoy, were pulling on their green Slytherin uniforms, ready for a fun game of Quidditch, against the Gryffindors. Only it wasn't so fun, because not only was their first game to be shared with Weasley, but Hermione wasn't there to cheer them on. Flint quickly erased all their negative thoughts with his loud, barking speech.

"Without Wood there to block our shots, we are a shoo-in for the House Cup! Weasley is nothing compared to us! Now, I want you all to go there and win. I don't care how you do it. Bruise, bite, hurt, scratch, smash or even kill! I want that cup on the Slytherin Wall, and if I don't have it, you all will be facing a sentence much worse than Azkaban! NOW, MARCH!"

The team marched through the doors, and Harry tried not to blink at the sunshine that hit his eyes. The Quidditch Pitch was divided into two sides – those going for Gryffindor and those for Slytherin. The Slytherin side shouted with enthusiasm as they flew to their positions, each of them looking rather impressive in their new Uniform-Plus-Nimbus Combo. Madam Hooch gave them both her usual warning (during which Harry gave the evil eye to Ron Weasley, who was dressed in tattered red robes) and then blew her whistle. The Snitch was released.

She threw up the Quaffle, and instantly Draco dived for it. He easily manoeuvred out of Angelina Johnson's way and threw the Quaffle to Flint, who caught it with ease. He aimed for the goal and threw it at the hoop. Weasley looked startled, and tried to desperately block the Quaffle, but he lost control of his broom and dropped several feet. He was saved by Katie Bell, who managed to pull him up, quickly. Still, it was all in vain. Slytherin was up by 10 points.

Flint swooped under the ball and threw it to Tran (the 3rd Slytherin Chaser), who quickly caught it and aimed for the hoop. Weasley had just regained his bearing, and managed to dodge to the right side of the hoop and block the ball. He wasn't expecting for Draco to be right under him, waiting for the exact move to happen. Draco let the Quaffle drop into his arms, before flying several feet back. He aimed and shot. The Quaffle took off and head straight for Ron Weasley's head. The ginger-haired boy had just enough time to duck, letting the Quaffle fly through the hoop. 20 to 0, in favour of the Slytherins.

After another 50 points to Slytherin, Gryffindor's time with the Quaffle came. Katie Bell quickly got the ball, and tossed it to Angelina Johnson, who tried to pass it to Alicia Spinnet. Tran quickly intervened, and with his new broom, he managed to catch the Quaffle in mid-air, before throwing it to Flint, who threw it to Draco, who scored. There was barely any time to get the Quaffle, because one of the Slytherin Beaters had swung his bat rather viciously. A black Bludger shot through the sky and headed straight for Ron Weasley. The red-head was knocked off his broom, as the Bludger hit his arm. He fell to the floor, moaning in pain. Nobody really paid any attention to him, because they were too entranced in the game.

Harry, on the other hand, had just spotted a speck of gold near Katie Bell's ear. Growling in frustration, he decided to do one of the things Slytherins did best – _cheat_. He clutched his broom and faced it to the ground. He could hear the Gryffindor Seeker desperately try to follow him. He was in the lead, but only by a few inches. Harry smirked under his hair and shot upwards, leaving the Gryffindor Seeker to fall flat on his face.

Ignoring the shouts ("FOUL – HE WAS CHEATING!") from the crowd, Harry turned to make eye contact with Draco, who, with the help of Flint and Tran, was scoring dozens of points. It seemed his little feat had led as a distraction for the Gryffindor Chasers; because unknown to all the students in red and gold, Slytherin was know leading with 160 points. Harry bit make a snicker, and cut through the air effortlessly. The Snitch had moved and was now standing only a metre away. Harry dove downwards for the second time that day, and within minutes, he had clasped his hands around the golden ball.

The Slytherins shouts filled the stadium and Harry held up the Snitch, smirking victoriously. Slytherin had won – 310 to zero.

Nobody noticed a pale red-head girl slip through the bleachers, a dark book hanging from her hand. Then again, nobody ever noticed her, apart from Hermione, but she was gone, and with her went the red-head's happiness. And so, the girl began to write.

* * *

"_They're starting a Dueling Club!" said Seamus. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days…"_**  
**_"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" said Ron, but he, too, read the sign with interest._**  
**_"Could be useful," he said to Harry and Hermione as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**B**_y that point in time, Daphne, Draco and Harry had all decided that whatever was in the Chamber of Secrets wasn't going to hurt them. At least, not on purpose.

Draco had managed to get his Father to send a copy of the school records fifty years ago, and they had all cracked open the books to start researching. With the little clues McGonagall and Flitwick had unknowingly given them, Harry was surprised to see a 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' in one of the sections. He should've known that Voldemort would be the Heir of Slytherin – it all fit. But how could he possibly be in the school and not have contacted Harry?

Daphne managed to force him into looking up animals that can petrify. He was expecting a long list of people waiting to borrow the book – in light of recent events, of course – but no-one was there. Madame Pince had impatiently explained that everyone was too scared to leave their Common Rooms, Pureblood or not.

The three second-years had been surprised to see only a short list of animals that can petrify people. After scanning through the options, they had decided that only one animal fitted the quota – a Basilisk. It was a snake that was said to be the King of Serpents. If anyone looked it in the eye, they would be killed instantly. Everything fitted. Harry had heard a snake's voice every time someone was petrified (though, he didn't do anything, because by the time the voice hit his ears, he knew it would be too late) and Electra had been rather uptight about pipes. So, the Basilisk was a giant snake moving through pipes – which was why sometimes Harry could hear it, and sometimes he couldn't.

Then they hit their first block. How come nobody had died yet? Daphne managed to bribe some information out of Madam Pompfrey, by convincing her she was just looking for anything she had to avoid. She told them all the cases as soon as she got back. After two days of frustrated thinking, they had come to a conclusion. You had to look the Basilisk straight in the eye to be killed, and if you only saw its reflection, it would have the same effect, but to a smaller degree. Your body wouldn't die, just freeze.

Daphne's reports tied in perfectly with Harry's theory. Hermione had been near the bathroom mirror when she was attacked, Penelope Clearwater was found holding a goblet of water in her hand, Marietta Edgecombe, Colin Creevey and Oliver Wood had all be found outside the glass door to the Astronomy tower. Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown had, of course, been found in an empty corridor, carrying a pocket mirror and a bag of make-up each. Since then, they had made it a practice to go around the school with shrunken mirrors (similar to the ones Daphne had lent Fred and George in their first year), just in case.

Draco had another theory, one that had been picking at Harry's mind for a while. McGonagall had said that some girl called Myrtle was killed in one of the girl's bathrooms. Hermione was also found in the very same bathroom. Was it a coincidence? The fact that the Basilisk had been travelling around the school through pipes, didn't really help the matter. Could the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets be hidden in a _girl's_ bathroom? It would be the last place anyone would suspect – but would Salazar Slytherin go that far?

All thoughts of his internal conflicts disappeared when the doors to the crowded room flung open. Harry bit his lip, eager to see whoever would be in charge of the Duelling club. When he and Draco had seen the poster, they had both signed it, pleading silently that they would be given an opportunity to kick Ron (who had unfortunately been 'fixed up' with a quick spell) Weasley's butt into Planet Humiliation.

His eagerness to learn disappeared as soon as the unmistakable hair of Gilderoy Lockhart came into view. Harry shared a look with Draco, before turning to Daphne who voiced both of their thoughts. "I thought he was supposed to be in St Mungo's for another three days!"

Lockhart had heard Daphne, because he smiled falsely and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, I'm rather happy to be out. It was nothing a strong, adventurous man like me couldn't handle, of course! Dumbledore has been gracious enough to give me permission to start a Duelling club!" Enthusiastic claps from the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff girls filled the room.

Lockhart climbed onto the stage and bowed, "This little club is to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions — for full details, see my published works." Harry rolled his eyes, and Draco muttered something offensive under his breath

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," The dumb blonde grinned, before making way for an annoyed Professor Snape. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry — you'll still have your Potions master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"_What isss that annoying noissse. Issss that horrid ssssspunk back again?"_ Electra wriggled in his sleeve, and Harry tried ignoring her, wondering again why exactly her brought her to Duelling.

Harry watched as Snape's lips curled and Harry found himself smirking right back. He turned to his fellow Slytherins, and whispered in a loud voice, "Lockhart is already dead. Professor Snape is going to beat him so bad; he'll have to spend another three weeks in St Mungo's."

Lockhart's ears turned red, and he pretended he couldn't hear a word they said. He backed away from Snape, and they both bowed, only Lockhart did it in an exaggerated fashion. ("What is he trying to do, show off his buttocks?") Snape nodded briefly, before holding his wand out in front of him, like a sword.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart said, cheerfully. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course...one — two — three —"

Before Lockhart could even see what was coming, Snape pointed his wand at Lockhart and shouted the Disarming Spell. Lockhart flew to the back of the room, and landed on the floor with a thud. He opened his mouth to say something, but Daphne quickly intervened, already seeing what he was trying to do, "I might've said that this was planned, but Professor Lockhart seemed so shocked he was unable to defend himself. Perhaps he needs to re-read '_Year with the Yeti'_ all over again, hm? Or maybe he is just naturally an idiot."

Snape's smirk widened and Harry high-fived Daphne. Draco snorted and added his own scathing remark, and Lockhart quickly excused himself. He came back only minutes later, and told everyone to practice spells. After a few more insults, thanks to Harry and co., Lockhart left for the second time, only this time he didn't come back until the end of class. He stood up on the stage again, and plastered his phony smile onto his face.

"Let's finish the class with a duel," Lockhart grinned, "How about Ron Weasley and um...Seamus Finnegan?" He nodded to the two Gryffindors.

Snape smiled nastily, "No. Mr Potter, come over here. Let's see how one of my Slytherin faces against Weasley?" Harry smirked, and nodded curtly to Professor Snape, before sliding gracefully onto the platform.

The two boys barely bowed, just jerked their heads quickly. Lockhart counted to three, but Harry had already started casting a spell by the time he was on two. With a Slytherin smile, he cried, "_Pulsus tergum_!"

Weasley had obviously never heard of that spell before, because as he desperately fumbled with his wand, a pink light shot out of Harry's wand and smacked Weasley on the chest. The red-head was thrown back and hit the wall. He scrambled up and growled. He aimed his wand at Harry, "I'll get you..._Tarantallegra! Rictusempra!_" Harry dodged both spells with ease.

Weasley was growing more annoyed. He shot off all the spells he knew, before he finally yelled, "Fine then, you can have it your way! _Serpensortia!" _Weasley's wand exploded.

Several people gasped, as a long black snake fell out of it. It coiled around itself, before moving upwards, ready to strike. Harry could hear it hissing. _"What issss thisss? Where am I? Why am I here? Attack...sssstrangerssss...smell..."_

Harry smirked and turned to Weasley, "You know, that was pretty impressive, but I'm afraid that your little stunt won't work on me. Everyone, meet my familiar – Electra." Everyone looked surprised and confused, but Draco grinned, evilly. Harry bent down to the platform and let Electra slither out of his sleeve.

"A SNAKE!" Someone shouted, "HIS FAMILIAR IS A SNAKE!"

"_Ssssstop thisssss ssssshouting!" _Electra said loudly.

The other snake looked at her, curiously. _"Hello...where did you come from? Do you know why I am here? Who issss that boy?"_

"_My Masssster of coursssse. He can sssspeak our tongue!" _Electra said this rather pompously.

Everybody scrambled backwards (including the girl Slytherins – like Pansy), and Lockhart was turning pale. Snape was trying to cover his shock. Harry smiled again, and opened his mouth. Instead of the words most people expected, a soft hissing came out of the raven-haired boy's lips. _"Nice to meet you young snake. I don't supose you want to come with me?"_

Most people paled further, while some retreated to the farthest corner of the room. Lockhart and several others fainted, only unlike everyone else, nobody bothered placing a cushioning charm on Lockhart, who ended up – just like Harry had predicted – spending another 3 weeks in St Mungo's, who by then had gotten sick of him. Nobody paid attention to him anyway.

"_Do you know why I am here, ssssspeaker?" _Asked the snake, curiously.

Harry frowned slightly. _"Yes, but I don't think you'll like the reason. If you come with me, I will take care and feed you until I can find you another Master. I will also name you, if you like."_

The snake bobbed his head, and turned briefly to look at Electra, who was now inspecting an intrigued Snape. _"Yessss pleasssssse I apprecccciate your offer."_

Harry nodded, _"Hop into my sleeve, and we will leave, before anyone banishes you."_

The snake quickly sped up Harry's left sleeve and Harry turned to Electra who was nodding at Snape. Harry smiled at his Head of House, "She likes you, sir. Now, with your permission, me and my friends will take our leave."

"Yes of course," Snape gave a small smirk. "But let me warn you, by the end of the day, you will be the talk of the school."

Sure enough, by the time the sun set, everybody who was anybody knew about Harry Potter's gift. Could it be that their Saviour was really the next Dark-Lord-In-Training? Could he have opened the Chamber of Secrets and unleashed Medusa on all of them? Only four people knew the truth. The first three were Harry Potter himself, along with Daphne Greengrass and Draco Malfoy. Who was the third person, you ask?

Ginny Weasley.

* * *

_There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now._**  
**_"Why do you care how I escaped?" said Harry slowly. "Voldemort was after your time…"_**  
**_"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter…"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**N**_othing interesting happened for a few months. Harry, Draco and Daphne visited Hermione every day, and told her about how luxurious it was to have everyone (except Dumbledore and Snape) be scared of you. Christmas passed and they all got Hermione presents for when she woke up, one of which was a signed slip from Dumbledore to let Hermione practice magic at home. That was surprisingly easy to obtain, as all Harry had to do was explain that Hermione had practically missed a whole year, and that it would strengthen his friendship with the Grangers. Dumbledore apparently thought Muggles were a good influence on Harry, because he signed the slip without delay. Hermione would be squealing when she read it...that was, if she forgave them.

Hagrid had been arrested, but Dumbledore had managed to convince the Wizgenmont to trial Hagrid, to see if they could locate the Chamber of Secrets. This proved his innocence, and the Gamekeeper was granted a wand. Harry felt the only downside of Christmas was that the question on Dumbledore's sanity vanished with the gossip. Harry visited Hagrid and congratulated him. Even if he was annoying, Hagrid _had_ been the person to save him from Dursley-Hell.

Harry was still unnerved that he had received no notice from Voldemort, who seemed to be tearing down the walls of Hogwarts. He just wished he could hear from him once. Unbeknownst to him, he was about to get his wish.

Harry closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, only to find himself in a dark room with a ghostly Voldemort in front of him. Harry recognized the place easily – it was the connection between his scar and Voldemort – though he didn't know what exactly it was. He narrowed his eyes at Voldemort, "Why are you still a spirit?"

"That, Harry, is why I'm here." Voldemort looked at him, mildly, before flicking his hands. The words: TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE showed up in red ink. Slowly, it changed into I AM LORD VODLEMORT.

"Nice anagram," Harry remarked, "Continue..."

"My mother was a Gaunt, and she married a Muggle – Tom Riddle, and conceived me. When he found out of my mother's heritage, he threw her out. She died giving birth to me, and I was sent to an orphanage." Something flashed in Voldemort's eyes, and he decided to skip his Hogwarts Years, "Anyway, I grew up and after being refused the DADA position, I turned into Dark Arts. I came across certain rituals, those that gave me immortality."

Voldemort's eyes glinted, "They are called Horcruxes, and are the darkest of all magic. The process consists of placing your soul into different objects. Splitting them, you could say. I made six Horcruxes. They managed to keep me alive, though as a spirit. The Philosopher's Stone works in a similar fashion. It lets you live forever, it just doesn't give you a body to do it with." Harry groaned, and shot Voldemort a sympathetic look, which obviously had no effect on him.

"Before I leave, I thought I ought to warn you about my Horcruxes, just in case you come across them in the near future. The first was Marvolo Gaunt's ring, and the second was Slytherin's Locket," Voldemort flicked his hand and two more images appeared. "The third was my familiar, Nagini. The fourth was Ravenclaw's Diadem and the fifth, Hufflepuff's Cup. The last one was my diary."

Harry staggered back as he saw a _very_ familiar journal appear next to Voldemort's head. Harry gasped, "I've seen that diary! It is the exact same one Ginny carries around everywhere! She writes in it all the time!"

Voldemort lost his flow and he paled. "_What _did you say? That's impossible...By any chance has the Chamber of Secrets been opened?"

"Yes," Harry glared at Voldemort, "I thought it was _you_ doing that!"

"No! Lucius – that stupid fool!" Voldemort growled, "He shall be punished for this! I put a memory of my sixteen-year-old self in that diary, letting it write back and posses anyone who writes in it. It must've opened up the Chamber and set free the Basilisk! If my Horcrux is destroyed – I become vulnerable!"

Voldemort spun on his heels and turned to Harry, "Listen, Apprentice, I will be here every day, just make sure to activate the connection like you did today. Make sure you get the diary of that blood-traitor Weasley! If she were to hand it over, like the Gryffindor she is –"

"Slytherin," Harry interrupted quietly. Voldemort turned to him, ready to_ Crucio_ anything within sight. "She's in Slytherin. Ginny, I mean."

Voldemort glared at him, "I don't care! I want that diary back in my hands!"

"Okay, it's done," Harry smirked. "Anyway, how about we sit down and talk about our evil plans for the future, like good super-villains?"

"And what do you propose we do?" Voldemort sneered.

Harry shrugged, "What are your goals for the future? I, personally, plan on leaving Hogwarts whilst training to be a powerful wizard, both in light and dark magic. I also plan on overthrowing the British Ministry, and creating a world that is fitting for my liking. And I'm willing to use force to do it."

Voldemort glowered for a minute, before finally saying, "And I plan to create a Dark Order. I plan to make a society for Pure-bloods only, and I plan on exterminating anyone who comes in my way."

Harry suppressed a laugh. "Good to see we're on the same terms."

* * *

"_Harry — oh, Harry — I tried to tell you at b-breakfast, but I c-couldn't say it in front of Percy — it was me, Harry — but I — I s-swear I d-didn't mean to — R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over — and — how did you kill that — that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary —" _

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**G**_inny was in a secluded part of the school, in an abandoned classroom. It was easy to find her with the aid of the Marauder's Map, which had remained untouched for most of the year. He ducked through the door just as Peeves floated past. He shut the door with a soft click and he turned to see Ginny, who was looking at him, as if she was dreaming.

"Ginny?" Harry said softly, "I need you to put down the book in your hands. _Now_."

Ginny looked at him warily, before she laughed a dry chuckle. She looked horrible, and Harry felt extremely guilty about leaving her like that. Ginny motioned to the book, "So you finally figured it out? That I've been writing to Voldemort's memory the whole year, that I've been letting it posses me?"

Harry froze, "Wait – what? _Letting_ it posses you? How much do you know?"

"I know everything about your adventures last year," Ginny said, watching as a dark shadow crossed his face. "Hermione didn't betray you, if that's what you're thinking. I sort of expressed my dislike of some Muggles, and she told me everything, after putting privacy charms all over the parchment. I'm bound not to say any of your adventures to anyone who doesn't know about it, or without you, Daphne, Draco, Hermione or the Dark Lord's permission."

"_Dark Lord_? You call him the Dark Lord, now?" Harry raised an eyebrow, genuinely confused.

"I guess," Ginny rubbed her eyes, "I've been writing to Tom all year. He tells me every time he posses me. He said that the first time was a mistake; that the Basilisk would do anything for a meal, after being locked up for 50 year, even disobey his Master's orders. Hermione wasn't supposed to be petrified – I don't even know why she was there. Tom told me I'd have to take the Basilisk out regularly, to make sure another mistake doesn't happen."

"Ginny!" Harry cried, "I know I haven't exactly been very friendly, but that's no excuse for you to go around letting yourself get possessed!"

Ginny looked down and tears prickled in the corner of her eyes, "I know. It's just, at first; all I wanted to do was getting rid of this stupid Muggle-born who tried to kiss me – Gordon Daniels. I just hate Muggleborns. And then Tom came and told me what the world would be like without Muggleborns...and I started to like that idea. Then he started the petrifactions, and at first I didn't mind, but then I started feeling tired and...And if I try and back out, Tom will hold me against my will...and I don't want that!"

The red-head had started to sob, unable to suppress the emotion in her voice, "M-my family behaves like gits and N-nobody understands me...H-Hermione is gone and n-now I'm expected t-to be r-resorted into G-Gryffindor! A-And w-when I heard about Voldemort I-I knew I wanted to back you up b-but I didn't want it this way!"

Harry was feeling really annoyed at himself. He sighed and gave Ginny a hug, "Hey, look, you've got me, now. Okay? We'll go to the others and explain a few things. I'll talk to the Dark Lord and we can fix up some arrangements, okay? I'll make sure you're on the 'Don't Kill List', how about that?"

Ginny sniffed and buried her head in Harry's chest, "Okay, but please Harry, j-just take the diary and don't w-write in it. P-please don't let it come back to me. P-lease...?"

"I won't let anything happen to you," Harry smiled down at Ginny, "I promise."

* * *

"_This is called a telephone number," he told Ron, scribbling it twice, tearing the parchment in two, and handing it to them. "I told your dad how to use a telephone last summer — he'll know. Call me at the Dursleys', okay? I can't stand another two months with only Dudley to talk to…"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets**

_**T**_he end of the year ended just the way it should have. Hermione finally woke up from her petrifaction, and after she was filled in with all the events, she quickly forgave everyone. Harry knew that if it were him, he would probably not forgive those who had hurt him, but that was perhaps one of Hermione's nicer traits. Draco spent days saying sorry, even though she had assured him several times that it was okay.

Hermione, though, was still slightly nervous about the Dark Lord issue. Ginny and Daphne managed to corner her and the three managed to have a talk. Harry didn't know what happened, but the fact that they were each brought up a different way (Ginny by a Light family, Daphne by a dark one and Hermione by a Muggle couple) the changes were noticeable, because Daphne got a little softer and both Hermione and Ginny stood a little straighter.

Ginny – that was another thing. After Harry had explained everything to Draco and Daphne, they had reluctantly taken the red-head in. She and Harry spent days together, walking around the lake and getting to know each other. Daphne also seemed to be warming up to her, a fact that made Ginny delighted. Draco had taken on their agreement at the start of the year and became somewhat friends, though he still called her 'Red', for fun.

It was after the Leaving Feast (in which Slytherin thrashed the other houses) that Harry found himself on Platform 9 and ¾, waving to the Malfoys and Greengrasses. Ginny had yet to make an appearance, as she had been whisked away by Dumbledore to have a private re-sorting. As if he had just thought the magic words, Harry saw a blur or red pounce on top of him. He made a small choking noise, and Ginny let go of him, her cheeks flushed red.

"Hey Ginny," Harry grinned, "How'd the sorting go?"

"Great! Though Dumbledore was a bit surprised when I got sorted into Hufflepuff, but he said he'd tell my Mother anyway," Ginny teased, "Nah, I'm just kidding! I got sorted – well, re-sorted – into Slytherin!"

"I knew you would," Harry pulled her into another hug (one that didn't involve choking on his part) and smiled into her hair. He turned his head slightly, mussing up Ginny's straight locks. He made eye-contact with a group of red-heads who (apart from Fred and George) looked like they were going to murder him. Deciding to play with them a bit, Harry kissed Ginny's cheek, making her go bright red. "Your parents want to see you Gin. I'll catch you later?"

Ginny nodded, and gave him a quick hug and a 'Promise-You'll-Write', before flouncing off to greet Fred and George. Harry smiled at her, fondly, before disappearing through the wooden wall. "See you next year, Ginny."

* * *

**Footnote: **_I really enjoyed this year! The whole Ginny/Harry thing was really fun to write. Though, their relationship definitely isn't going to be rushed. But, the next book should be slightly harder for me...so I'll need your opinion for that._

**IMPORTANT POLL****: **_**Do you want Sirius with Harry-Voldemort, with Dumbledore or Neutral? What about Remus?**_


	4. Year 2: Dripping Blood III

**Charming the Snake  
by **_**FashionStarlet**_

**Note: **Okay, just a little fun bit for those of you who wondered what happened with the Chamber of Secrets. Hope you like it! :)

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* * *

**YEAR TWO:  
**_**Dripping Blood III**_

* * *

_Closing the Chamber_

"_**Y**_ou have to do something, Harry!" Daphne rolled her eyes as Harry shrugged indifferently. "You can't just leave the whole school hanging! Who knows what the Ministry might do? It doesn't matter if all the attacks have 'mysteriously' stopped."

Ginny leaned back, her eyes surveying the dark, abandoned classroom in which the five Slytherins were gathered in. She patted the black snake – Veneficus – that Harry had given her. Even though she knew she wouldn't be able to keep her pet at her house, Harry had volunteered to take care of it. Ginny smiled at the thought, and turned to look at her brown-eyed friend. Hermione had been one of the first people to return to her original state, even though Professor Sprout still hadn't finished the second batch of remedies. The brunette in question was currently staring at the ground, a calculating look on her face.

"Daphne's got a point," Draco said, as he double-checked the silencing charms. "The whole school is on about how you're a Dark Lord, and that really doesn't help with your innocent facade. The Dark Lord wants your alliance to be secret, and that doesn't really come into effect if everyone thinks you're going dark."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, "Since when did you know the Dark Lord so well? You sound as if you've studied 'Dark Tactics 101' for the past 12 years of your life."

"I _did _grow up with Lucius Malfoy," Draco reminded her, "You never know, Red."

"Stop calling me 'Red'! It makes me sound like a matchstick...or some Scarlet Woman!" Ginny glared at the blonde. "If you don't stop calling me that, I'll take to calling you 'Dragon'."

Daphne sniggered, "I'd like to see Parkinson when she hears you calling her Drakie-Poo a dragon."

Draco blushed, "Stop it! You know very well that I detest that pug-faced lady!"

"Now who's 'Red'?" Ginny giggled, "Besides, we all know who you want to be _your_ lady."

Draco's face flushed a darker red, and Harry shot them both an amused look. "As entertaining as this little fight is, do you mind if we get back to the topic at hand?"

Hermione looked up, and spoke for the first time, "I think the most logical thing to do is somehow let everyone know that the Chamber is closed, without arising suspicion from any other students or teachers. It has to have no evidence pointing to Harry either. If Draco is right, and we need to lower anything that points to Harry's involvement with Voldemort, it would probably be best if Harry did something similar to what happened in First Year. Something heroic, reckless and Gryffindor, that will put him in the good graces of everyone once again."

Daphne stared at her brunette friend for a while, before exclaiming, "This is why I'm not the strategist in the group!"

"We all know that you don't have the brains, Daphne," Draco snickered, "You don't have to be modest about it."

"Says the boy who got detention for performing a sleeping charm on himself," shot back Daphne, ready to defend herself at any cost. Ginny smirked from behind Daphne.

The blonde boy glared at her furiously, "Shut up, Daphne. And stop smirking, Red!"

"What did I tell you about calling me 'Red'!" growled Ginny.

Harry and Hermione exchanged exasperated looks. Harry coughed and cleared his throat, "AS we were saying – something heroic to get in the good graces of everyone!"

"What?" Ginny snapped, distracted. She turned around and then shot Harry an apologetic look, "Sorry. What were we talking about?"

"Well," Hermione cut in, "at first I played with the thought of simply projecting an image saying, 'The Chamber has been closed', but I figured we could do something that shines the spotlight of innocence onto Harry. We can be inventive, and have a little fun with it – but pranking isn't exactly my scene, so I though you guys could put in a little input."

Harry's face became serious, "I do like the idea of putting that message on the wall, though we could touch it up a bit. Still, I think we should add something on top of that, just for fun."

Draco looked pensive, "Well, being educated in _Dark Tactics 101_, like Re- Ginny over here pointed out, I think the best way to go is with something completely ridiculous, but somewhat realistic and dangerous."

"Do you have any ideas, Oh-Dark-One?" Daphne mocked, and Hermione stifled a giggle at the imitation of Draco.

Draco ignored her, "Actually, I have a vague idea of what we could do, but I don't think you'll like it much, Ginny. It is simple; really, all you have to do is..."

* * *

_**D**_umbledore smiled, happily, as he nibbled on a Pumpkin Pasty. The house elves cooked a great meal, whether they were in times of distress or not. The Headmaster was completely oblivious to the happenings outside the Great Hall, as well as the worried glances the students were exchanging. The events of the Chamber of Secrets – as well as the petrifactions – were clearly at the back of his mind. For now.

* * *

_**M**_inerva McGonagall sighed, as she tucked back a strand of her hair. Ever since the petrifactions, she had become more and more tense, and at this rate, she would soon be as paranoid as Moody. She glanced up at the time, which was projected on top of a small model of Hogwarts. Dinner was already half-way through. She had to get there soon.

Closing her office door, she tightened her robes, and started to walk briskly towards the stairs. As she approached them, she saw something red in the corner of her eyes. Fear overtook her, and she nervously crept forward to the wall_. The same wall where the first message had been written. _Her blood ran cold as she read the red words that filled the wall.

**GINEVRA WEASLEY HAS BEEN TAKEN.  
HER SKELETON SHALL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.**

* * *

_**"A **_student has been taken!" Minerva cried, as she burst into the Great Hall. Everyone froze, their faces carved in shock, as they turned to face the distraught Transfiguration teacher. "Ginny Weasley has been taken hostage – right into the Chamber!"

Two red-heads at the Gryffindor table paled, and looked at each other as if they were going to cry. Fred and George would kill themselves if they let their baby sister get slaughtered by some stupid beast! They started to stand up, but Ron pulled them down. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his brain was screaming to go to help his sister, but the only thing he could see was her hand hitting his cheek.

People started to scream, as the realisation hit them. Dumbledore stood up and cast a quick Sonorous charm on himself. "SILENCE!"

The Great Hall became silent, though everyone still looked panicked. Suddenly, someone stood up at the Slytherin table. Everyone turned to look at who had made the noise, and some were surprised to see Harry Potter walking to the entrance to the Great Hall. "I – Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived – shall go save the beautiful Ginevra Weasley, and bring her to the safety of her beloved family, if it is the last thing I do!"

Hermione tried not to hit her head on the table.

* * *

_**T**_he whole school climbed into their beds that day, fretting about the confrontation between Harry Potter and Slytherin's beast. They didn't know that below the school, in Salazar's Private Quarters, five Slytherins were huddled up in green sleeping bags, laughing and having popcorn, whilst doing their Transfiguration Homework.

Well, did you honestly think that Harry Potter was going to battle a Basilisk? Pssht!

* * *

_**T**_he Daily Prophet – which had been printing information about how horrible Dumbledore was to let all those children get petrified – had a Special Edition out that day. The heading "CHAMBER OF SECRETS – REVEALED!" brought the attention of everyone who passed by. It told them about how Harry Potter had to fight Medusa – Salazar Slytherin's secret wife – who had been petrifying people in her grief, as she had only just found out about his demise.

It was an amusing issue, really. Everyone bought it easily, and those who were suspicious, didn't dare to question their Saviour (with the exception of Severus Snape, of course). They were too scared and relieved to question anyone. Besides, that was just the Prophet's version. In Harry's opinion, his version was much more realistic. Hermione still felt like banging her head on the wall.

Still, the last message on the wall eliminated the chance of anyone disagreeing with Harry's story of saving Ginny. In the same red blood that brought nightmares to the select few, it read:

**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN CLOSED...FOR NOW.**

* * *

_**Footnote: **I just had to put this in there. I wanted to have a little fun, so here it is! I know that the Wizarding World isn't really that gullible (though, they are in the OotP), but to those who disagreed, would they really proclaim war against the BWL?_

_**POLL: ****Should Sirius be Neutral/Dark/Light, and how about Remus? What should Harry's Patronus/Animagus be?**_


	5. Year 3: Soul of Black I

**Charming the Snake  
by_ x Dark Lady x_**

**Note: **Wow, I got a huge amount of Feedback for the Animagus/Patronus suggestions. Thanks, really. I still can't believe I passed the 100 review mark! Thank you SOOO much! You guys are the best! Still, I'm sorry for the wait. I've re-done my profile, got about a dozen story ideas and my friend forced a bet on me where I have to finish my Twilight story in two weeks. Talk about pressure. Anyway, I also had a bit of a writer's block here, but I guess I'll go with the flow.

Okay, some of the things here are from the Deathly Hallows, so unless you haven't read that, I suggest you move away. I know some of the things below may seem a bit rushed to you, but I want to add in the Horcruxes in a way that doesn't include a year-long quest around the world. And, I apologise, because this chapter is so short.

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_**This chapter is dedicated to TanzaniteLucieSnape, Ofunu and dragyn42, who gave me a lot to think about. Also, thanks to Nargus for pointing out my mistake in the last chapter!**_

**Also, please note that I have changed my penname from 'FashionStarlet' to 'x Dark Lady x'.**

* * *

**YEAR THREE:  
**_**Soul of Black I**_

* * *

"_I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia. Marge's train gets in at ten."  
_"_Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "Sh-__she's __not coming here, is she?"_

**~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

_**H**_arry Potter was having a pleasant summer. He called it 'pleasant', because though the Dursleys left him alone, he missed the daily trips he took to Hermione's house. His brunette friend was whisked off to France for the holidays, and she wouldn't be back for another few weeks. Harry planned to meet up with her as soon as she did. Maybe she could even join him on his customary trip to Malfoy Manor. (Harry knew for a fact that she really wanted to see Draco's room.)

Harry would've loved to have Ginny come as well. Despite the hostility he held for most of the Weasley clan, Ginny had become one of his closest friends. Even though she was a year younger than him, he couldn't help but feel somewhat _happy_ every time he saw her. It was like they had some sort of connection. Everything about her was fascinating, her long red locks, her big brown eyes that sparkled with amusement, her melodious laugh...

The raven haired boy blinked, realising just what he was doing. _He was fantasizing about Ginny_. But he couldn't help it...it was like he just couldn't stop thinking about her. Beside him, Electra hissed something about boys in love. Veneficus (the snake he had gifted Ginny) hissed in agreement. Harry paused, uncertainly. Was he in love with Ginny? No, he wasn't. He had only known her for a few months. Not even a year. But, then, why had he felt so attracted to her in the bookstore last year? Did he have a crush on her?

Shaking his head, Harry put down the Hogsmeade permission slip (which he had forced Vernon into signing) he was toying with. He could faintly hear a car pulling into the driveway, and Marge, Vernon's ugly sister, waddled into the house. Harry smirked. He didn't like Marge – hell, he hated the snot-nosed bitch – so when she decided that she just had to come 3 days before her due arrival...well, let's just say that he wasn't going to follow Vernon's brisk warnings about 'keeping things quiet'...

"Where's my Dudders?" Marge boomed, hugging her bulldog tighter to her side. "Where's my neffy poo?"

Harry stepped out of his room just in time to see a blonde whale getting squeezed by a fat walrus. He snickered, and called out, "You know, Marge, if you're not careful, someone might mistake you two for an overweight elephant."

Marge let go off Dudley, and growled, as she looked at him. "So! Still here are you? Who are you to be insulting my Dudders? At least he's the right size!"

"Well, as you can see, I am here, unless you are delusional," Harry drawled, silently capturing Marge's red expression. "And if you mean, by 'right size', over 150 kilograms, well...I think you might find that classified as grossly overweight...for a 13 year old."

"You little runt...!" Marge yelled, "Vernon, go up there and beat that little brat!"

Vernon looked between the two, and he took a step back. He knew what would happen if he said the wrong thing. Lucius had been very thorough when he had threatened the beefy man. Harry smirked, "I think you'll find, _Aunt_ Marge, that in this house, I'm the one everyone fears."

* * *

_Extremely unusual though he was, at that moment Harry Potter felt just like everyone else — glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday._

**~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

_**M**_arge's reaction was rather amusing, Harry recounted. After her brother's lack of movement, she had stomped up (nearly breaking the stairs, mind you) and tried to punch him. Harry had just stepped to the side, a cold smile on his face. Marge had tumbled into his room, and had taken one look at the expensive silk, furniture and dark colours...and realised that Vernon had been right to warn her about his nephew.

Then, she saw Electra and Veneficus, and practically ran from the room, screaming. Harry had sneered and Electra, seeing her cue, had slithered up his arm. Veneficus, who was rather amused, by that point, decided to take his ceremonial place on Harry's other arm. Marge's mind went on over-drive, when he hissed at both of the snakes, who in turn bared their blood-dripped fangs at her. (Harry made a mental note to ask Electra not to entertain Veneficus with mouse-catching games when 'guests' are around) Marge avoided him as much as Vernon, Petunia and Dudley did. Though, you could often see her in front of the fireplace, with a bottle of brandy in her hand, muttering about snakes and whatnot.

A loud fluttering interrupted his thoughts, and Harry looked up to see Draco's eagle-owl, Hunter (a very unoriginal name, Harry noted), diving towards him, through the open window. Harry rolled his eyes, and stood up to inspect his claws. Harry carefully pried the four packages, which un-shrunk themselves as soon as Harry made contact with it. He grinned, and quietly told Hunter to wait for a while. The eagle-owl gave a deep hoot and perched himself on the edge of Harry's new bed. The raven haired boy turned his attention to the first package.

Wrapped beneath several layers of paper, were two books. The first was a light bronze and very thick. It was titled, _'Wizard Genealogy' _and Harry smiled at the idea of having information about any family at the tip of his fingers (though, Daphne later insisted that it was why she was there). The second book was dark brown with bronze plates decorating all four corners of the book. In the middle, engraved on a plaque was a skull. Harry opened the book, curiously, only to find the letters that stared at him was nothing but incomprehensible.

He turned over the book, to see a small letter stuck to the back.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy birthday! I was worried about how I was to get this letter to you. (What if they open it at Customs?) Neither of us have an owl (though I did get enough birthday money to hopefully purchase one), and I doubt Veneficus or Electra would be of much help. Then, Draco was kind enough to send his owl to pick up Daphne, Ginny and my presents!_

_Though, I don't know what to think of his owl. It looks rather...vicious to me. No doubt Draco has been drilling 'Malfoys don't' rules into the poor thing._

_I had a lot of fun visiting France! Did you know there's a secret, magical community here as well? A nice 6th year called Fleur helped my parents to get 'through', because France's barriers are quite different to the ones protecting Diagon Alley. They were extremely interesting, and I can't wait until I can learn about wards in more depth! (Back to Fleur, I think she's part-Veela, because the men kept giving her weird looks. Remind me to ask Draco what percentage Veela you have to be to inherit the allure.)_

_Anyway, I have something extremely important to tell you, so please, bring your 'Wizard Genealogy' book with you to Hogwarts! I meant to tell you about it before we left Hogwarts, but I was so caught up with the fact that Ginny was getting re-sorted! (She told me she got sorted back into Slytherin. I really hope her parents don't over-react!)_

_Oh, I almost forgot! You're probably wondering what the second book is. Well, I don't exactly know what it is – don't sound so shocked! – but I do know that according to the French bookshop owner, it was worth a lot centuries ago, but because it's written in an ancient language, most people don't buy it. For some reason I felt it was important...perhaps we can translate it in Hogwarts?_

_Fleur mentioned that to be able to speak an Ancient Tongue is a skill valued by many... Well, I hope you have a wonderful birthday, Harry! Draco has invited me to come to Malfoy Manor with you! It'll be amazing! Daphne's coming too...and the only thing we need is Ginny...but with the whole Malfoy-Weasley blood feud, I doubt she'll be able to come. I was really disappointed, but Draco did say we might be dropping into the Weasley Household, so yeah. I'll see you soon._

_As they say in France – __Au Revoir, __  
Hermione_

Harry smiled at Hermione's attempt to sway him into learning the 'Ancient Tongue', as she had called it. Though he was thoroughly disappointed that Ginny couldn't come to Malfoy Manor, he wasn't surprised, so he settled for opening his next package. There was a small lump wrapped up in paper and an envelope on top of it, which rather pointedly declared that he should not open the package until he read the note. Harry suppressed a laugh, and cracked open the seal of the note – which, if the writing showed anything, was from the one and only Daphne Greengrass.

_Happy Birthday, Harry!_

_You will never believe what I found! I told Daddy about TDL coming back (Don't get mad, okay? I know Draco told his Dad, and I kind of had to) and he decided that we needed a Safe Haven which wasn't Greengrass Manor. So we went looking around, and we came across Riddle Manor! Yes, Riddle Manor! I had to buy it, before some Muggle raided it out! I mean, who knows what things could've been thrown away?_

_Of course, I didn't tell Daddy why I wanted this house so bad. While Daddy was securing things with the Muggles, I wandered around for a while, and it was quite obvious that TDL had been her recently. The place reeked of Dark Magic and Necromancy. (I don't know why the latter's scent was around, though) Just as we were about to leave, I found a ring hidden in a corner. Not just any ring. It was the ring that you told us about. TDL's ring! I knew it had been moved recently, so I managed to secure it. I mean, what if Dumbledore watches this house or something? He could just apparate inside (I hate to say this, but Dumbledore could take Daddy's wards out with a wave of his wrinkly hand)!_

_Anyway, I haven't told Daddy about it. He's not privy to that information. I have given you the ring, since it is your birthday, and you're probably the best person to keep it. Though, I advise you not to touch it without consulting TDL. I tested it out, by dropping a nearby toad on it, and he burnt into crisp! I don't want your hand half-dead!_

_Anyway, I decided that the ring isn't really a 'gift', so, I'll give you your really gift when we get to Malfoy Manor. (Hermione's coming, did you hear? I have a feeling that when we're through with the Weasleys, we'll be stealing one of their members...maybe 3!) It takes a while to get made, but I might as well tell you. I've ordered you a whole set off designer robes, fit for TDL's Apprentice!_

_No offense Harry, but you seriously need to improve your wardrobe. It's definitely very classy right now, but not dark enough for TDL's Apprentice! Now that I think of it, perhaps I need a new wardrobe too..._

_From,  
Daphne_

Harry was unable to hide his excitement. Daphne really tended to outdo herself! He looked at the small package, and sighed. As much as he wanted to open it, he had to trust Daphne. Giving the package one last look, he turned to open the small, dark green box, which no doubt belonged to Draco. He lifted the lid off the lid, to reveal a black bracelet, with a dark pendant hanging out from it. Next to the bracelet were two mirrors, a gold one and a red one.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm writing to be the bearer of both good and bad news. Before I say anything, let me wish you a Happy Birthday! You can probably recognise what I got you, but if you can't, the red mirror is a very high-class 'Foe Glass'. It basically shows your enemies. The black bracelet is also very high-class (I wouldn't be a Malfoy if I didn't buy high-class things, so lay off me) and it's a 'Deceit Detector', and it's basically the Slytherin version of a Sneakoscope, only it buzzes instead of whirring like the Hogwarts Express. _

_The last one is Grindelwald's Mirror of Knowledge (I have no idea how it got in the Malfoy Vault in the first place, but I think Grindelwald gifted it to my great-great-grandfather as a gift of loyalty or something. I tried it once, but it didn't really work for me. Basically, the Mirror of Knowledge shows you anything you want to know, but the catch – it only shows those who it thinks are 'worthy' the secrets it contains. _

_I really don't want to admit it, but the few times I've used it, it's turned up blank. Father said that if there's anyone who can make it work, it's you. (He didn't seem to upset about me giving it away. He said, and I quote, 'Stupid piece of rubbish that is.' I don't think it worked for him either.) Just don't tell Daphne or Red that, they'll use it as blackmail! (Why, oh why do such fair maidens hate me so much?)_

_Okay, that was the good news. The bad news is that Percy Weasley is Head Boy, and that Ron Weasley is going to be all high and mighty because his family won the Galleon Raffle Draw. (Though I, personally, am glad that Ginny, Fred and George get a bit more allowance to spend on my birthday present...just kidding.)_

Harry bit back a groan, as he read the bad news. This was just great. He heaved a sigh, and continued reading. Hopefully, he could get Fred and George to use their new allowance on pranking Weasley to death. Speaking of death, Harry made a mental note to make sure the twins pulled a prank on the new Head Boy...using a green flashlight (though he'd have to charm it)...

_There's more news, of course, but I'm not exactly sure where to categorize it. Since Father has so many connections, I found out that our DADA teacher has retired, how sad! (Note the sarcasm) Our new DADA teacher is none other than Remus Lupin, your Dad's best friend. I don't know how you'll react to this, but I thought I'd mention that he's a werewolf..._

_Actually, it seems that this year has to do a lot with your Dad. Recently, your Dad's other friend, Sirius Black escaped Azkaban. You know him, right? The one that killed your Dad's other, other friend, Peter Pettigrew? Yeah, well according to Father, the Ministry are convinced that he's trying to kill you to avenge TDL. Considering your status with TDL, I'd say not, but still, beware of him, just in case._

_There's something going on with the Hogwarts Security too, but Father says I'm not privy to that information, yet. I was tempted to pull a tantrum, but settled for telling Dobby to bash his head on the wall. That stupid elf annoys the hell out of me. The only reason why he's still around is so that he doesn't go off blabbing to the world all the Malfoy secrets, but I still think the best solution is cutting his head off!_

_By now, I'm sure you know all about Hermione and Daphne's upcoming stay at Malfoy Manor, right? Well, I won't let out too much information, but I'll tell you the same thing I told Hermione, Daphne and Ginny: Pack your bags and be ready to leave on August 22nd! _

_Sincerely,  
Draco Lucius Malfoy_

Harry paused. Draco was right about one thing, he didn't know what to think about Lupin or Black. He wasn't so fussed about Lupin, though making an alliance with his Dad's friend wouldn't be something he'd be objected to. He wasn't too sure, though, since he was positive that both his parents were followers of Dumbledore. Would that make Lupin one too...? He hoped not. He didn't want one of his 'Uncles' to be on the opposite side of the war, but then again, Harry hadn't even met the man. Deciding to put any thoughts about his new DADA teacher away, Harry concentrated on the second issue.

Sirius Black...if what the Ministry said was right, then he was supposedly the Dark Lord's right-hand man. That couldn't be true, because he knew for a fact that the Dark Lord had named Lucius Malfoy his right-hand. According to Draco's letter, everyone was worried that Black was on a rampage to kill him. It was highly unlikely, as the Dark Lord would probably confront Black before he could do any damage. But then again, the Dark Lord was currently running around, frantically trying to find a way to ensure his revival. Harry sighed. He'd talk to the Dark Lord about it later, but it was no use pressing the issue too much.

He turned to the last package, and smiled. It was Ginny's present. He unwrapped it, to reveal two, smaller packages, the first being a bag of pranks from Gred and Forge, and the second being Ginny's actual present. He opened it gently, not wanting to ruin anything inside. Inside was a plain gold bracelet, and even though it was simple, Harry couldn't help but gape. Where had Ginny got this from? Wavering slightly, Harry picked up Ginny's letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I hope you're having a great birthday, do I wish I was there to celebrate it with you, instead of those horrible Dursleys. I miss you a lot. The atmosphere in the Burrow is so tense. It's like the Burrow is divided._

_There's Molly and Arthur (They are still my parents, but I don't think I can think of them as Mum and Dad anymore. Not after how much emotional torture they put me through last year), who just keep _watching _me, like I'm up to something! Then there's Percy who is off writing to his girlfriend and prancing around like a prat, and Ron who keeps boasting about how he's sure to get on the team this year, now that the Gryffindor Seeker has left._

_(I think he's trying to prove something. I can't wait to see if I make it on the Slytherin Team this year! I really want to fill in Cory's spot, plus it will wipe the smug smile of Ron's face!) Fred and George, well they're nice to talk to, but it's so hard, especially since they know nothing about TDL (I still can't believe Daph wanted to nickname Him 'TDL')!_

_Oh, right. I almost forgot to tell you about your birthday present. I've given the same thing to Draco, Daphne and Hermione. I figured that we could each buy a charm that represented one of us (like a snake or whatever) and we could get Draco's father to charm it so that we can communicate with each other. It would also probably have an SOS signal, a location charm and a portkey...if Draco's father can hopefully do that. (I still haven't met him, and I'm really nervous! I don't want to get off the wrong foot! You know, with the whole Blood Feud.)_

_I've got a lot to talk to you about too. How is Veneficus? I really miss him. I suppose now I know why you always bring Electra around everywhere...it feels wrong if you don't._

_I need to say something about your Parsletongue gift. I don't know why, but...for some reason every time I walk outside, into the garden, I keep hearing hissing. Do you think...do you think that...that Tom Riddle...possessing me did something to me? That mixed with the bonding of Veneficus and me...because...for some reason, I feel _different_. Like, I feel stronger._

_It's probably nothing. I really want to write more, but I don't think it would be good if Molly walked in on me writing a letter to you. She's convinced that Draco has tainted you to the Dark Side, and that you're trying to corrupt me. It's stupid, especially since you're the one who 'saved' me from the Chamber of Secrets. You'd think she'd be a little more grateful, but I think Ron may have something to do with the whole scenario...and Percy._

_I really hope I'll see you soon. Happy birthday, again!_

_Love,  
Ginny_

_PS: Draco's asking me to pack my bags. He hasn't told me anything else! It's SO typical of him to leave me hanging!_

Harry stared at the letter, re-reading the last bit over and over again. For some reason, the normally prodigious boy couldn't process anything about the letter, except for the word 'Love'.

Love. _Love_. Love. _Love_.

"I'm going mental," Harry muttered. "I'm hyperventilating over the word 'Love'!"

He massaged his temples and looked at the letter again. Ginny was exceptionally bright. Why he – or even Hermione for the matter – hadn't thought of the idea of a portkey was a mystery to him. Not to mention the fact that she could possibly have been accidentally gifted with the ability to speak Parsletongue...Harry sighed. He'd think about it later.

* * *

_He looked over at the alarm clock. It was now two o'clock in the morning._**  
**_Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts._

**~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

_**H**_arry found himself standing in a dark room, much like the one he had encountered so many times before. In front of him was the ghostly figure of the Dark Lord Voldemort, who was eyeing him, thoughtfully. Harry didn't even squirm. He flashed Voldemort a charming grin, which only made the ghost stare at him even.

Finally, Voldemort spoke, "Hello Apprentice."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Hello."

Voldemort turned and paced back and forth, "Do you know why I have called you here today?"

"Er...is it because it's my birthday?" Harry shrugged, unsurely. "Or is it because you still haven't found a body? Slytherin, that sounds _weird_!"

Voldemort glared at him, "How _amusing_, I find myself more and more fascinated by your _lack of humour!_" Harry couldn't help it. He winced.

Voldemort turned on his heel, and looked at Harry, piercingly, "I have called you today that now that your 13th year has passed, your magic core is strong enough to sustain the adequate training needed to establish you as my second-in-command. I will not have weaklings as the heir of the Dark Throne, so you are not allowed to slack!"

"What do you want me to do?" Harry asked, curiously. "I mean, where am I going to get the equipment needed to train for my task?"

Voldemort paused, as if he was considering something. Then he fixed his gaze onto the raven-haired boy, yet again, "There is a place in Hogwarts. I found it in my youth. They call it 'The Room of Requirement'. But, until I think you are ready, I will not let out to you any of the secrets of Hogwarts. No, for now you are doing training that doesn't include any...specialised training equipment."

Despite the part of his brain that was itching to find out about 'The Room of Requirement', Harry maintained a cool face and listened eagerly to Voldemort's word. The Dark Lord, however, was oblivious to what was going on in Harry's head. "I think you will quite like the idea I am proposing to you too. I'm giving you a chance to become an Animagus."

Harry gaped, "Are you serious? That would be awesome!"

"_Acceptable_," Voldemort corrected, sharply, "If your opponent knows what appeals to you, he is the one who has the upper hand. Never show emotion. 'Acceptable' not 'Awesome', understood?"

"Sorry," Harry quickly masked his excitement. How cool would it be if he could turn into an animal at will? It would be a great addition to his pranks, too! Imagine if he was a snake – he could slither right up to Weasley and bite him! Oh, that would be awesome! He could almost imagine his face, red and hot. Him turning, clutching his swollen leg and pointing desperately at him...the look of horror...the glee on Ginny's face...

"I would appreciate if you _paid attention to me_," said Voldemort, in a cold voice. Harry's eyes widened when he realised what had happened, and he quickly apologised again. Voldemort assessed him with slit eyes, before walking towards him. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "Since you don't seem to care to learn this from me, I expect you to be able to change into your Animagus form by the end of this year, or _else_."

Harry sighed and he carefully worded his words, "I'm thoroughly disappointed in myself, My Lord, but if you insist that I perform this task without your humble guidance, I shall do so. But may I have permission to diverge from this chosen topic and question you something else?"

Voldemort eyed him, before he touched his chin and nodded, his eyes shining with mirth. "You're improving, Apprentice. You show proper authority to your elders, so I shall allow you to ask your question."

"Daphne Greengrass, daughter of Elinor and Jacque Greengrass," Harry still felt rather weird talking in such a formal manner, but he ploughed on, "has recently bought Riddle Manor, as to ward of any Muggles that might take your prized dark artefacts, and to make it a Safe Haven for War Subjects who follow your leadership."

Harry paused, and watched Voldemort's blank look carefully, "There she found one of your Horcruxes, the ring that belonged to Marvolo Gaunt. She has gifted it to me, so that I can protect it from Dumbledore and anyone else, but she tells me that there is some sort of dark charm on there that incarnates anything that makes contact with it. I would, with your permission, like to remove the charm, so that I am able to bear that ring as a safety precaution."

Voldemort looked a bit surprised, but he masked it quickly. "Hm...I suppose that probably is the best idea. I'm positive that the old coot knows my hiding grounds...it's not long before Dumbledore decides to search Riddle Manor. If you must know, though, there is no charm on the ring, though it can only be worn by the Heir of Slytherin, but since, you are my heir and you probably have Slytherin's blood somewhere in your family tree, it shouldn't hurt you."

Harry nodded, not bothering to question the Dark Lord. Voldemort opened his mouth again, "I think I have found a way to ensure my return. It is a ritual I have heard of, but I am not sure the exact requirements. I shall be away for a while, and while I am gone, I trust you and your little...group to make sure nothing goes...wrong."

Harry smirked, "Of course."

It was only ten minutes later, when Harry opened his eyes and looked at his own, dark green room, that he realised that he had forgotten to ask Voldemort about the most important thing:

...Sirius Black.

* * *

_With a yell, he rolled back onto the pavement, just in time. A second later, a gigantic pair of wheels and headlights screeched to a halt exactly where Harry had just been lying.  
They belonged, as Harry saw when he raised his head, to a triple-decker, violently purple bus, which had appeared out of thin air._

**~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

_**B**_y the time Draco had pulled up on Number 4 Privet Drive, on the 22nd of August, Harry was all packed and ready; eager to leave the place he once, regretfully, called his home. A sleek black car pulled into the driveway, and Harry once again found him thinking about how exactly Lucius Malfoy could afford such expensive things at the last second. (Well, the Dursleys and Marge had shot off to some tea party when they'd found out about Draco's 'rescue'. If the Dursleys could do last minute, Lucius Malfoy could.)

Draco smirked at him from the front seat, "You coming, Harry? Hermione's already in the back, and we'd love to move before Christmas."

"Play nice Draco," Lucius scolded. Hermione snickered in the backseat, and Harry dumped his bags inside the magically expanded car. He slid next to Hermione, who greeted him, enthusiastically. (Harry silently noted the wary look Draco gave him when Hermione hugged him. He'd have to ask Daphne about that later.)

Harry shot Draco a sly wink, before turning to the oblivious Hermione. "So, what have you been up to in ze land of ze French?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, but the effectiveness of the gesture was repulsed by the huge grin on her face, "It was awesome! There were so many places to visit and oh, you won't believe how much fun I had with Fleur and her sister, Gabrielle."

"She's that French girl you were talking about, right?" Draco asked, from the front seat.

Hermione nodded, her curly brown hair flying everywhere, "Yes. She sort of adopted me this summer. We got along so well, and though she was a bit vain at times, she knew pretty much everything about the French Magical Society – hey, what are we doing here?"

Harry looked up, to see Lucius pull up into a dark alley; he looked at Lucius, questioningly. The aristocrat blond only smirked in return, "Did you honestly think I would spend the whole day in _filthy_ Muggle clothing, driving a Mudblood vehicle nonetheless?"

Harry rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Sometimes I think Draco is too much like his father."

Draco, who had heard what he had said, glared at him. Hermione giggled behind her hand. Then, before he knew it, Lucius had grabbed Draco's upper arm, and Draco placed his fingers on both Harry and Hermione. Then, there was a loud 'Crack' and Harry felt himself being squeezed through a tube...and then, he found himself being hugged to death. That could only mean one thing. They were at Greengrass Manor.

* * *

_Ginny, who had always been very taken with Harry, seemed even more heartily embarrassed than usual when she saw him, perhaps because he had saved her life during their previous year at Hogwarts. She went very red and muttered "hello" without looking at him._

**~ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban**

_**G**_inny Weasley was sitting on her bed, staring, frustrated at the green watch that was fastened around her wrist. She fiddled with her trunk, wondering once again, whether this whole thing was a big prank. She sighed and ran a hand through her long red hair. She looked at the old mirror that hung on her bedroom wall, and cocked her head, her thoughts once again filling up with pictures of a raven haired boy that she had not been able to get out of her mind.

The sound of a loud knock on the door interrupted Ginny's musings. She perked up at the sound and grabbed her trunk. Trying to be as discreet as possible, she tip-toed across the hallway, past Bill's old room, and onto the head of the small staircase. She bit her lip and watched as Arthur nodded to Molly, who was doing the dishes and opened the door.

Arthur's jaw dropped, "MALFOY?"

Ginny smiled. The plates in Molly's hand shattered. Ron came rushing out of his room, followed by Fred and George. Ginny noted the identical trunks they hid behind their backs and she gave them a subtle nod. They grinned and turned to the doorway. Lucius Malfoy stood at the doorway, a disgusted look on his face. "Good morning, _Weasley_."

"What are _you_ doing here, Malfoy?" Arthur's ears were turning red. "I don't recall ever letting _you_ into _my_ house."

"I don't need an invitation, Weasley," Mr Malfoy tilted his cane backwards; "I just need a bag of galleons...something that your family seem to lack having, hm?"

Arthur's face was red and he looked like he was going to burst. Ginny decided that it was a good time to intervene. She spotted Harry smirking from behind the doorstep and she grinned. She flew down the steps, with her trunk clutched firmly by her side. She grinned, and launched herself at the green-eyed boy. He laughed and hugged her back.

"Good to see you too, Gin." Harry chuckled. Ginny grinned, and greeted Hermione, Daphne and Draco with enthusiastic smiles. While she was doing this, the twins had discreetly made their way to behind the older Malfoy and were grinning, openly at their parents.

"Ginny! What do you think you're doing?" Ron yelled.

The redhead shrugged, simply. "I'm going to stay with the Malfoys."

"_Ginevra Weasley_!" Molly shouted, "I refuse to let you be lured into the traps of the Malfoys! You will stay home, where we can keep you safe. I forbid you from consorting with Death Eaters! You're my daughter, and you will listen to me!"

Ginny couldn't help it. She scoffed, "Your daughter? I stopped being 'your daughter' the day I was declared a Slytherin. I, for one, am glad to be leaving this hell hole. The only regret I have, is that I cannot stay there forever."

"Ginny, please, think this through –" Arthur tried, his anger slowly dissipating.

Ginny turned away, sadly, "Sorry Da- Arthur. Let's go, Fred, George."

Both the twins turned and waved at their parents, "See you later Dad, Mum!"

And that was how they left the Weasley household. With a gobsmacked Ron, an oblivious Percy, a fuming Molly and a sad Arthur, who knew exactly how much he had lost that day. Ginny couldn't help but feel satisfied. The redhead sighed, as she walked outside the wards of The Burrow. She turned to Harry and looked at him seriously. "Harry, tell me the truth, do I look like that when I'm angry?"

Harry laughed at the absurdity of the question. He grinned down at the younger girl and tucked back a lock of her red hair, "No. You look a hundred times better than that, Gin. You look like – like a red angel. A fiery goddess...you look_ beautiful_."

Veneficus slipped from Harry's right arm and around Ginny's waste and the Weasley smiled up at him, her cheeks pink, "Thanks, Harry. Thanks for everything."

* * *

**Footnote: **_I'm once again super-sorry for the short update. I just thought that this was a good place to end the first part of this year. I don't know how many 'parts' I'm going to split this year into, because I'm currently writing this as I go along. Anyway, review if you like it!_

**POLL: **Do you want Harry to participate in the Tri-Wizard Tournament (as either a test to show his worth and/or to introduce himself to Voldemort's Death Eaters)?


	6. Note: Process of Rewriting

IMPORTANT NOTE!

* * *

**Hello~**

Okay, everyone, this is NOT an abandoning note or anything. It's just a quick author's note to show you that I'm still alive and stuff. The reason why I haven't updated in…months? I have been abnormally busy, moving schools and all that, and I have had Writer's Block for a long time. I went back, and noticed a _lot_ of plot holes and OOC-ness in the story, most of which restricted any character development on my part.

So, as of today, I am putting this story on HOLD. Don't worry though, I am rewriting the story, and I'll be posting it up like normal. I'm pretty sure you get updates every time I change a chapter, but if not, PM me, and I'll make sure to regularly update you on when there is a new edited chapter up.

Besides, even if this WAS a new chapter, since I have been away for so long, you'd probably have to go back and read it from the start. So, it's a sort of mixed blessing, I guess.

Unfortunately, updates on the edited chapters will still be slow (I have set a goal to update at least a chapter in each of my stories these holidays, which is a LOT, mind you) because of their size, but as they are only being edited, it'll be a lot quicker than how long it took me to write them.

Sorry for any disappointment, but it's for the best. I hope you continue reading, and** I sincerely recommend you go back and re-read the Chapter 1**. Trust me – it's a lot better now :)

AND – I've woven Harry's Horcrux into the plot too~ so, I hope you like the changes!

Love,

**Dark Lady x**


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